


Ordinary World

by StormyMonday



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Psychological Drama, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-07 07:41:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormyMonday/pseuds/StormyMonday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the distant aftermath of tragedy, she gave his life meaning, and in turn he willingly provided her with acceptance and validation, but lies, and differing ideologies would inevitably tarnish the sparkle they had brought into each others lives. As time passes, Fate will bring everything full circle, bearing gifts that in the past seemed forever out of reach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To put it simply, I started writing this story because of several things in the anime that made me very unhappy; the main and most obvious thing was Neil's death at the end of season one. The other is that Lyle ultimately ended up losing everything. My intention in writing this fanfic is to remedy these things, albeit in a very round about and sometimes unpleasant way.
> 
> If all goes as according to my wicked plan, the time line will be slightly tweaked, but hopefully will be considered canon-compliant. And yes, this is romance where two female OCs are involved with the Dylandy twins during their respective seasons. This story also includes future events and relationships, but has absolutely nothing to do with aliens.
> 
> Credits go to my friends, readers, and fellow writers of whom have advised me on many aspects of this story, mainly in the area of character analysis and certain canon-specific details. I am forever grateful. Additionally, a huge thanks to the Criminal Minds Fan Wiki, and Brainy Quote, where I have, and will continue to obtain the majority of my opening quotes, and International Movie Database.
> 
> Lastly, don't own, don't sue. Thanks.

_“It is not so important who starts the game, but who finishes it.” - John Wooden_

* * *

It wasn't the type of place that catered to just anyone, partly because of its nondescript appearance, and partly because of the location. Most that frequented Bailey's were locals, many of whom had lived in this town and surrounding area for generations. Baileys' patrons would come in after a hard day of work to have a bite to eat, and stay to drink, some until they were barely able to stand. For one Neil Dylandy, this was a home away from home. He knew the people that frequented the place well, and considered many of them to be extended family. This particular evening found him in the middle of a game of cards with three considerably older men, all of them very unsatisfied with the fact that Lady Luck had apparently taken quite a shine to him.

“So what's the verdict Quinn, you in or out?” 

Andrew Quinn spent a moment looking over his hand before responding with a reluctant sigh. “I fold. The wife's gonna have my head when I get home.”

With Quinn's final resignation, they all turned in their cards, and once again Lady Luck smiled on Neil. 

Very obviously pleased with the outcome, and effectively extending the dismal losing streaks of the other men at the table, Neil gathered his winnings. “Well gentlemen, it's been a pleasure doing business with you.” 

As it happened though, the evening was still relatively young, and they decided to start up another game, the three older men not content to go home empty handed. Just as the cards were dealt, and the bets placed, there came a hush over the room, the chorus of loud conversations suddenly dwindling to whispers as a very attractive red headed young woman entered through the front door. She quickly scanned the room and the people within, clearly feeling out of place. Even so, she settled down at a table located in an out of the way, dimly lit corner.

Quinn raised an eyebrow at the apparent newcomer's presence. “Haven't seen her in here before.” 

“Maybe she's new in town.” the man known only as Callahan mused.

The third gentleman by the name of Sean O'Reilly let out a low, soft whistle as he began to reminisce about the days when he had been young and eligible, “She's quite a looker ain't she? If I didn't have to answer to that hag I call a wife...”

“What do you mean by 'hag'? Mary's a good woman and you know it old man.” Mary O'Reilly had always treated Neil like the grandson that she and Sean never had.

Sean bristled at the younger man's scolding. “Oh sure! You can say that cause you're not the one getting' a fryin' pan upside the head nearly every night just cause you come home too late!” 

Eager to change the course of the conversation, Quinn piped up with a suggestion for the youngest of their group. “You know, you'd do well to spend some time with a woman instead of always takin' my hard earned money. Why not go over there and introduce yourself?”

“If I were a betting man I'd say she's waiting for someone.” replied Neil. “Although...” he continued, also taking a quick look around, and focusing on one particular individual “...suddenly I have a feeling things could get ugly if someone doesn't keep an eye on her.” 

The other three turned their attentions in the same direction, recognition of Neil's concern instant. The man in question was notorious for forcing his unwanted attentions on unsuspecting young women. They watched as a bar maid served the man yet another drink, and as he took it upon himself to “familiarize” himself with the newest employee. She merely flinched and walked away adhering to her boss's instructions on how to deal with people like him. Annoyance mixed with anger flashed across the man's face, but quickly faded when he spied the pretty redhead in the corner. 

Neil sighed. “I was hoping we wouldn't have to go through this again tonight.” It was now only a matter of time before _something_ happened. The question being, however, could she handle herself in such a situation. As it stood, she didn't seem to have any idea she was being sized up.

**[xy]**

Deciding that the situation called for drastic measures, Quinn leaned back in his chair and stretched, trying to make the corresponding yawn seem genuine. “I think it's gettin' past my bedtime.”

The other two older men looked at Quinn knowing exactly what he was getting at. Sean O'Reilly was the next to speak. “Now that I think of it, I think I'll go home and help the misses with some housework.”

Callahan being a man of few words managed to quickly come up with his own excuse for an abrupt departure. “I think I left the oven on.”

Neil refocused his attention on the three men at the table just as Quinn stood, pushing his chair under the table, and the other two following suit. “Oh no. If you think I'm falling for that again you're all crazy. Besides, there's a chance I'll let at least one of you win this time around.” Neil responded in an attempt to bring them back into the game.

“I have a feelin' it won't be long before you're holdin' more than a full house.” Quinn said grinning slightly. “You don't need us old geezers hangin' around complicatin' things.”

“That's right. We'd just be in the way.” added O'Reilly.

Sean stood, and pushed his chair to the table. “Good luck to ya, lad.” 

“Good luck with what? I already said that all I'm going to do is make sure the girl makes it out of here safely. But that doesn't mean...” The protest was lost amongst the other voices in the room, though as the last of the three men were just exiting the pub. The sudden turn of events had left him alone and slightly vexed at the situation. This wasn't the first time they had done this, and he knew they meant well, but the last time he took their collective advice concerning the opposite sex things didn't turn out well at all. Having no choice but to concede defeat, Neil began stacking the chips and cards, and generally organizing everything as it should be. 

No sooner had he finished the task at hand, Neil heard an unfamiliar female voice, and a very unhappy one at that. Looking in the direction it had come from it clearly belonged to the redhead. Her voice was soft, and yet steady and determined. She was doing her best to rid herself of the lecherous pest that had finally made his way over to her. Neil watched as she struggled to find exactly the right moment in which to take her leave. Two options presented themselves at this point; he could put an end to the other man's aspirations of conquest now, or wait and see if the young lady would be successful in her refusal to give into his advances. And of course there was the third option should the situation require it, though he hoped it wouldn't come to that. For the moment, letting the scene play out without any interruption seemed like the best idea.

**[xy]**

Scarlet mentally scolded herself for not trusting her better judgment when her destination finally came into view. Some would call it a 'gut feeling', but she preferred 'woman's intuition' that told her she should just pay the extra money and have the taxi take her back home, but still, she promised to meet her soon-to-be ex boyfriend at this place in particular. After all, he insisted saying that it had the best drinks in town. She'd received a text message from him saying he was running late, and he wanted her to wait for him. At the time it didn't seem like a bad idea, so she agreed. This agreement however was what had ultimately led to this moment of her feeling vulnerable, and finding it increasingly difficult to fend off the advances of a man who had clearly reached his limit hours ago. 

After what seemed like an eternity of extended leers and transparent, lackluster come-ons, Scarlet decided that it was time to end the charade. “I really need to be on my way, but thanks for the offer.” she said, her tone defiantly sarcastic. She stood, gathering her coat and purse, but no sooner had she turned away from the man to leave, he took the opportunity to put his fail safe into action. He grabbed her from behind making sure that the heel of her black leather boot caught on a loose floorboard. Scarlet fell backwards, and the man caught her while simultaneously holding a switchblade to her throat. 

“I really don't wanna hurt you beyond what's fun, but I will if you cross me. So, don't even think about screaming.” 

** [xy] **

Any woman that left with the resident sewer rat willingly only had themselves to blame if, or rather when, the lecherous troublemaker decided they owed him a 'favor.' This was not one of those times, however, and it was obvious that the odds were not in the redhead's favor. Neil's patience with this nearly every night scenario was wearing thin, and since she had unwittingly gotten herself into an impossible situation, he decided to lend her a hand. Knowing all too well that a confrontation was inevitable, he made his way over to the greasy little man and the distressed damsel. 

“Still can't take a hint, can you Hyde? How about letting this one off the hook.”

The man named Hyde straightened himself at the taller man's presence still holding the blade to Scarlet's neck. “Mind your business, brat. I'm busy.”

“You wouldn't have to go to all this trouble if you'd just go about it like normal people do. Those little pills must get expensive after a while.” He cast a glance at the man's would be prize. “It's a good thing you didn't let him buy you a drink.” 

“I don't recall askin' for your opinion, Dylandy. I'm sick an' tired of you always ruinin' my fun, so why don't you just go away and pretend you never saw this.”

“Come on man, make this easy on all of us and let the girl go. I'm not going to ask you again.”

“And what if I don't?” Hyde challenged. He barely had time to blink before he had the barrel of a shiny black pistol pointed squarely at his forehead.

“Then I'll put and end to this routine permanently, and judging from all the trouble you've caused the people in this town I don't think you're ready to meet your maker just yet.”

**[xy]**

Scarlet sighed with relief when the man removed the blade from her neck deciding instead to turn it on the man with the gun. Observing her immediate surroundings it was clear that there was no way she'd be able to escape past them unnoticed, so she opted to take refuge under the table. It was all so surreal, Scarlet mused briefly. Somehow she felt as if she were a cast member in a Hollywood movie, except for the fact that there were no bright lights, camera crews, and none of the dialogue had been scripted. Her thoughts were broken when she heard Hyde laugh at the stranger's obviously less than idle threat. 

“You're bluffing.” 

“Are you really willing to test that theory?”

An uneasy silence fell upon the room the, patrons now focused on the standoff. A collective sigh of relief was heard as Hyde put away his switchblade, apparently coming to his senses and opting to cut his losses. From her vantage point under the table Scarlet watched the man retreat. Defeated, he walked away while muttering some kind of veiled threat under his breath. The silence brought on by the standoff quickly subsided as Hyde made his way to the exit, returning the scene to what was normal on any given night.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

“Nothing is permanent in this wicked world, not even our troubles.” - Charlie Chaplin

* * *

 

He would have noticed if she'd left considering that the table she'd chosen was placed in an architecturally awkward corner, which left only one place. Kneeling down, Neil found the woman in question right where he thought she'd be, hiding under the table. “He won't be bothering you anymore. Here, let me help you out of there.” 

Scarlet shook her head, protesting at the man's un-holstered weapon. “I am not going anywhere until you put the gun away Just because you managed to scare away that degenerate does not give me reason to trust you.” 

“What, this?” Clearly amused, Neil handled the small pistol as if it were as harmless as a child's water gun. “It's not even loaded, relax.” He put the pistol back in its holster, and then helped the small framed woman to her feet.

She dusted herself off, and then closed her eyes for an instant, sighing with cautious relief. “Thank you.” In that brief moment Scarlet cleared her head, and as she did Neil's previous statement echoed in her mind. “Not loaded you say? Do you really expect me to believe that a man such as yourself who is obviously quite at home here, would spend any measurable length of time in such an establishment and _not_ carry a loaded weapon? I suppose you're used to being taken at your word, or rather, other women being so grateful they don't think twice about being told such a blatant lie.” 

Neil shrugged off the woman's indignation knowing that first impressions had a tendency to be misleading. “ It's not everyday I have to make things up on the spot like that. You had every reason to be afraid of Hyde, and I didn't want you thinkin' the whole place was full of sewer rats like him.” 

Scarlet's cold stare softened, and she sighed. “Please forgive me. This has truly been 'one of those days', as they say.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. Since you're here, why don't you let me buy you a drink?” Neil extended a hand and smiled. “Name's Neil, by the way.”

Tenuously, but politely Scarlet accepted the gesture and shook her head. “Oh, I couldn't possibly trouble you any- Oh dear, where are my manners...” She smiled shyly. “My name is Scarlet. It's a pleasure, Neil.”

As Scarlet accepted his hand, Neil noticed a tear in the fabric of her sweater sleeve, with a likely superficial, yet painful looking wound beneath. “Well, that settles it then. Make yourself comfortable.”

“It's nothing.” Scarlet held the torn piece of fabric over the wound, hoping he'd let the issue go, but he didn't. 

“It's not nothing.” 

“I'll take care of it as soon as I get h-”

“Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back.”

“Really, it's-”

Neil raised his hand silencing her protest. “I'm serious. Don't leave.” 

It appeared she didn't have a choice but to stay. After all, it would be impolite to walk out on the man who had,quite possibly saved her life. She sat down at the same table, and while he talked to the woman behind the bar, Scarlet took the opportunity to put herself back together, mainly checking what little makeup she was wearing, and taking her hair down before refastening it in a silver barrette. As she did so, the wound on her arm opened up slightly, and she had to admit that it was quite painful. Even so, Scarlet still didn't like the fact that Neil insisted on tending to it. She already felt she owed him too much already. Just then, a bar maid approached asking if she'd like anything. At first Scarlet declined, but reconsidered when she was told that she could have whatever she liked on the house. _'Might as well make the best of things.'_ she thought, and ordered a drink.

A brief few moments passed before Neil returned bringing with him a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a few cotton balls. He pulled a chair up next to her own. He seemed a bit surprised to find someone of Scarlet's stature drinking something as harsh as whiskey. 

“I suppose you expected I'd ask for something more feminine?”

He gestured to her drink. “You don't seem like the type that would drink straight whiskey.” 

She casually raised an eyebrow, countering his observation. “I didn't know there was one.” 

Obviously, it was time for a different, more standard approach. “Fair enough. So then Miss Scarlet, what brings you all the way out here at this time of night?” 

“You really don't have to do this. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“No fair avoiding the subject.” 

“I-” she winced as he dabbed the wet cotton across the wound. For something so minor, it burned as if it were on fire. “Do you want the short version, or all the details?”

“Either way.”

She explained that her boyfriend, Jeremy had asked if she would like to go out, and she accepted. However, he called and told her he was running late and asked her to meet him, this leading her to call a taxi since she had already let her co-worker borrow her car. Jeremy promised he'd take her home, but as it turned out, he never showed up as was his promise. The rest needed no further explanation.

“So now he owes me quite a lot of money that I didn't need to spend in the first place.” she said, absentmindedly tracing with her index fingertip the condensation rings that had long since been etched into the old wooden table.

“That must be the short version.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Judging by that expression you had just now, I'd say he owes you a lot more than money.” Clearly her mind had been somewhere else as she attempted to answer his question with as little details as possible.

She sighed pensively, the condensation rings on the table becoming very interesting once again. “I don't really care anymore. I suppose I'm just starting to worry that I'm going to, you know, end up like that old stereotype.”

“What stereotype is that?”He studied her expression as she seemed to drift off, momentarily lost in thought.

“The old woman that ends up living alone on a dead end road whose only companions are the fifty cats she's managed to collect over the years.”

Neil couldn't help but laugh at the imagery that formed in his mind. “That's not going to happen to you. I can guarantee it.”

“First he fancies himself Sir Galahad, and now he can see the future.” she replied, taking another drink, a noticeable hint of mischief in her voice. “You're very talented.”

Her innuendo laced observation coupled with the fact she had a pretty face and an equally nice figure had not been lost on him. Had they met under normal circumstances, the prospect of spending the night together wouldn't have been out of the question. Unfortunately, it was what it was, and the chances of salvaging things at this point were slim to none. Dismissing that particular train of thought, Neil watched as Scarlet tossed back the last of her drink, and then proceeded to take her cell phone out of her coat pocket.

“What are you doing?” 

“I have to get home somehow don't I?”

No sooner had she spoken than he gently took the phone out of her hand snapping it closed. “There's no need for that. I'll take you.”

“At the risk of sounding repetitive, I still have no reason to fully trust you; certainly not enough to let you take me home.”

“No strings attached, I promise.” 

Scarlet shook her head. “You've done quite enough for me already.”

“If you think you're going to win this debate you're wrong. I'm not giving you a choice.”

** [xy] **

The image of the little place called Bailey's barely had time to disappear in the rear view mirror before Neil glanced over at his companion to see she had fallen asleep. While most people could forget their troubles and relax, even temporarily, and even despite the effects of the alcohol, she remained tense. At first he figured this was simply because of the day's ordeal, but when a very quiet whimper and a nearly inaudible whisper caught his attention, it was clear she was hiding much more than just a string of bad relationships. If this evening's incident had happened just a few weeks earlier Neil would have been happy to entertain the notion of getting to know her better, but the fact was he just couldn't. There simply wasn't enough time.

Twenty minutes, give or take two or three, passed and they were at her apartment building. Neil pulled the car up beside the curb, waiting for a moment before deciding to wake Scarlet. “Time to wake up.” he said softly and placing a hand gently on her shoulder. 

Slowly opening her emerald green eyes, Scarlet took in her surroundings seeming somewhat dazed. She brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face, not quite thinking before she spoke. “I was hoping this was just another nightmare.” Blinking sharply and remembering how she had gotten here, she clarified: “I-I didn't mean...”

Neil smiled at her. “It's ok.” He reached into the glove box and took out a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling something on the paper before handing it to her. “Just incase you ever need anything.”

“I appreciate that, but hopefully I won't. No offense.” She opened the passenger side door, exiting the car, and he followed him to her front door while fishing in her purse for her key. 

“Do me a favor?” 

“Of course...”

“Try not to to be so hard on yourself from now on. What happened tonight, and whatever else you've been through, none of it's your fault. Things will get better if you just hang in there.”

“That's a very bold statement to make to someone you don't even know.”

“I like to think I'm a pretty good judge of character.”

Scarlet nodded. “Thank you again for everything. Goodnight”

He nodded, and started back to his car. “Goodnight.”

Scarlet hesitated for a moment, lightly kicking a few errant pebbles with the toe of her boot. “Would you like to come in?”

“Under the circumstances, I doubt that would be a very good idea.”

Scarlet nodded, and stepped inside, closing the door and locking it, questioning her own judgment as she did so. The alcohol had affected her more than she imagined it would, and she scolded herself for not following her doctor's orders. Admittedly, this one rare deviation could have led to a lot of regret the next day, and she was thankful for the rejection. 


	3. Chapter 3

_“The past is our definition. We may strive, with good reason to escape it, or to escape what is bad in it, but we will escape it only by adding something better to it.” - Wendell Berry_

* * *

 

 

Another work day had come to an end, and Neil was tending to some routine errands, and generally contemplating how he'd be spending his evening. He took one last look at his 'to do' list, and satisfied that everything had been tended to, he checked off the last item before idly glancing across the street, surprised to find the fiery red-head from nearly two weeks earlier sitting in a semi-sheltered area just outside of a small restaurant. Since then he'd wondered about her now and then. She hadn't called, and despite his curiosity, Neil ultimately decided that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Still, she was only steps away now, and so he decided it only polite to take a few minutes and say hello.

Scarlet looked up as Neil approached her, and smiled. “Well if it isn't my very own personal knight.”

“What are you doing out here? It's freezing.”

“Business is slow, so I'm having a break.”

“I'd think there would be a better place to do that than out here. It looks like the sky's going to open up at any time.”

Scarlet nodded. “There is. I believe it's commonly refereed to as a utility closet. The smell of cooking oil and human sweat aren't at all pleasant when they come together in a hot kitchen, and the utility closet is right next to it.” She smiled, resting her cheek on her palm. “You're not worried about me are you?”

“I guess I am, a little. What kind of knight subjects his damsel to overexposure like this?” Neil took off his own coat and draped it over Scarlet's shoulders. “Overexposure being the operative word here.”

It wasn't like she didn't appreciate the gesture, but she was already wearing her own coat. In her mind it was sufficient for the current situation as she would be going inside shortly. “Is that really necessary?”

He nodded, noting the less than conservative school girl style of her uniform. “By the looks of what you're wearing, yeah, it is.”

Before they could continue their playful discourse, a dark haired girl wearing a uniform identical to Scarlet's interrupted. “Hey Scarlet! Where are y- Oh! I didn't know you were busy!” She surveyed the scene quickly before grabbing Scarlet's hand and dragging her aside. “So when did this happen?”

“When did what happen?”

“Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about!” When did you hook up with Captain Hottie over there?”

Scarlet raised an eyebrow and shook her head. “I have not 'hooked up' with anyone. We met a few weeks ago and he gave me a ride home.”

The girl looked over at Neil curiously. “I see, I see...” She paused briefly, and giggled. “I never would have pegged you for the one night stand kind of girl.”

Scarlet sighed. “Honestly Candace, you shouldn't make such assumptions concerning matters you know nothing about. Yes I needed to find a way home, and yes he was kind enough to extend the courtesy. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The younger girl clasped her hands together and sighed dreamily. “Okay, okay. I understand if you don't want to go into detail., but if you change your mind I'm all ears.”

Scarlet shook her head. Candace was only a few months shy of her nineteenth birthday, and was perfectly content with treating members of the opposite sex as her personal playthings. “Why did you come out here, Candi?”

Candace shrugged. “Well, either way, I'm happy for you. I always knew that Jeremy was totally skeezy and unworthy of your attention.” She blinked, reminded suddenly of the reason she'd ventured outside to begin with. “Boss is closin' up. Says we should all get home before the weather gets any worse.”

Scarlet's brow furrowed. “I think I just told you there's nothing going on between-”

The younger girl grinned. “Oh come on. Any idiot can see you're totally hot for him. Well, I should go get my stuff. You two have fun, okay?” She winked at her friend and then headed back inside.

Scarlet watched the younger girl head back inside, and then crossed the few steps back to where Neil stood. “I'm afraid she doesn't seem to know the definition of subtlety. You probably heard...”

Neil smiled, slightly amused at the red-head's state of embarrassment. “I did. She thinks we're sleeping together.”

Feeling flustered at the awkward seconds that followed, Scarlet removed the taller man's coat and handed it back to him. “Yes well, I need to get back inside and see if there's anything left for me to do. It was good to see you again.” She returned inside with every intention of helping with the routine clean-up, but was instead told that she could leave. She gathered her purse and cell phone from the employee coat closet, and exited through a door opposite the one she had come in hopes of avoiding anymore uncomfortable encounters. When she got to her car and started to look for her keys, she realized they were safely locked inside the vehicle. For an instant she stared through the tightly closed windows, and then let out a very audible growl of annoyance, followed by a swift kick to the driver's side door.

Neil turned toward the disturbance just as he was reaching his own car, and called to the woman who, judging by the dent she'd put in the door, was stronger than she looked. “Something wrong?”

Scarlet sighed, and gestured to the little vehicle, “It appears I'm going to have to call a taxi service.”

He crossed the short few steps over to her side once more, and peered into the window of the little car. “There's no way you're going to find someone to get them out for you now; not with the weather and this being Sunday evening.” Just then as if on cue it began to rain.

Once again the red-head sighed in frustration. “In other words, I'm at your mercy for a _second_ time.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing.” He took her hand and began to lead her to his car. “Come on, let's go before we both get soaked.”

* * *

The rain fell steadily around the car as the two made the journey to her apartment once again. Neil slowed as a red traffic light came into view, and he took this time to observe his once again apprehensive companion. After some thought, it occurred to him that an apology was in order. “I'm sorry about earlier; for making you feel uncomfortable.” 

Scarlet merely shook her head, but did not avert her attention from the droplets of rain that continued to pelt her window. “Think nothing of it.” She paused for a moment, pursing her lips as she pondered these impromptu excursions. “Neil?” Even as she spoke, her attention still did not waver from the rain outside. 

Neil glanced over briefly. “Hm?”

Scarlet took in a deep breath, suddenly finding her voice unsteady and small. “Do you believe in fate?” 

Neil raised an eyebrow, and chuckled. “A strange question from a strange girl. I guess I shouldn't really be surprised, though.” There wasn't anything outwardly strange about her, with the possible exception of her stature, but the way she spoke and the way she carried herself had left him with questions from the very beginning.

Upon hearing his response, Scarlet finally turned to Neil and fixed him with a straight and serious expression. “It is a perfectly legitimate question. Do you or do you not?”

Neil thought for a moment, briefly pondering the events that had shaped his life so far. “I don't know.”

Scarlet shifted in her seat, suddenly feeling uneasy, as if she had just asked a very personal question. She turned her attention back to the window before clarifying her inquiry. “You don't find it odd that we keep meeting like this?”

“Well, we do live in the same town. It was probably just a matter of time.”

Scarlet glanced back at him. “The same town with a fairly sizable population. You make it sound as if we simply ran into each other at the market, or ATM.”

“I suppose it is a little strange considering that each time I've had to rescue you from something; Hyde, the weather. Your keys.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes at the notion of being thought of as a damsel in distress, and then sighed in defeat. “I do not enjoy making a spectacle of myself.”

Neil gave her a reassuring smile. “Everyone needs a little help now and then. You can't control everything all the time.”

Scarlet pondered this for a moment. “I suppose you're right.”

**[xy]**

By the time they'd arrived at Scarlet's apartment the rain was falling in sheets. Neil took an umbrella out from under the seat, exiting the car and opening the umbrella taking it over to the passenger side so as to keep Scarlet as dry as possible. Once again he escorted her to her doorstep and waited while she unlocked the door.

“Would you mind if I take you up on your offer from the other night?”

She smiled. “I thought you'd never ask.”

Once inside, Neil noted how, despite the small windows and lack of square footage, Scarlet had managed to make the small space very inviting. “Nice place you have here.” he commented. A small, over stuffed sofa was situated along the longest wall of the room, a coffee table in front of it, and a taller table with a small lamp sat on left side of the sofa. Another much taller floor lamp stood in the far corner of the room, though the table lamp was the only one illuminating the immediate area. It was just enough though to cast a warm glow on the paintings she had hanging on the walls. Most were landscapes, with the exception of one still life.

“It's not much, but it's home. At least until I find something better.” she said while taking her hair out of its ponytail holder. “Make yourself at home. I have to get a shower before I do anything else.”

He nodded observing her a little more intently than he meant to as she disappeared into the room down the hall. After a moment Neil turned his attention to the paintings noting right away the initials written in script in the lower right hand corner of each one. _'s.l.d.'_ were the letters, and it then dawned on him that he didn't know Scarlet's full name. Then quite by accident he happened to notice another still on its easel, tucked away where the glow of the table lamp could not reach. It was much smaller than the others, and the imagery was very, very different as well. The colors were dark and the lines thick, the subject matter abstract and cold. The initials in the lower right corner were the same as the landscapes and still life. Why the one in the corner was so different would have to remain a mystery for the time being, one thing he was certain of though, the initials on each one belonged to her.

The thermostat in the hallway clicked on signaling to the furnace that it was time to warm the little apartment. A mere few seconds passed before the soft scent of roses began to drift from her room, and shortly after he could hear the muffled sound of a hair dryer. For a few minutes the hair dryer hummed, and once it stopped there was the sound of a door opening, and a light switch being turned off. When Neil looked in the direction of the sound Scarlet was just emerging from the hallway having traded her work uniform for a black cardigan sweater with a white shirt underneath, a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, and of all things, bunny slippers. She had the sides of her hair pinned back with small barrettes, medium length bangs falling lightly across her forehead. Neil smiled at the sight, amazed at how well she was able to pull off cute and sexy at the same time.

* * *

Scarlet had never made it a point to tell people how she spent many a sleepless night releasing the demons that haunted her sleep since she was a little girl. As far as she was concerned, she was no more talented than someone who had taken art classes at the local community college, so it was a bit of a shock when she found him studying her works. No one else had ever bothered to take such an interest in them beyond being simple decoration that could have easily come from some starving artist show. She hoped he hadn't seen the one she'd painted the night before. If he had there would surely be questions to follow, and indeed she was right However, she went straight to her tiny kitchen in an attempt to avoid the subject completely.

“So how long have you been painting?”

Scarlet hesitated for a moment still standing with the refrigerator door open. “What makes you think those are mine?”

“Aren't these your initials?”

“Yes.”

“I'm no expert, but it looks like you have a lot of potential.”

Slightly dismayed at not having much to work with, Scarlet took out a fairly large bowl that was covered with cellophane. Setting it on the counter she proceeded to gather a few other things to accompany what was inside. “I hadn't planned on having company over. I hope you don't mind leftovers.”

Neil knew a diversionary tactic when he saw one, and that one was a classic. He'd gotten very good at avoiding personal questions over the years; so good in fact that most people never knew exactly how or when the direction of a conversation had changed until the previous subject was all but forgotten. For some reason, Scarlet didn't want to indulge his curiosity this time, so he decided to give up on the subject and joined her in the kitchen.

“This looks like a lot of work just to warm up...” he paused to see what was in the bowl, “...chicken soup.”

“Tortilla soup.” she corrected, retrieving a plastic cutting board from where it hung on a wall near the sink. “It's similar to chicken soup, except that it originated somewhere in Mexico or the desert southwest region of the US., hence the tortillas, avocado, chilli pepper, and cilantro.”

“That's very interesting, but it still looks like chicken soup to me.”

“Well, it will look much prettier after I've finished adding all the garnishes.”

“I hope you're not going to all this trouble just for me. I really don't want to be any trouble.”

“I don't mind. Besides, when was the last time you had something decent for dinner that didn't involve a deck of cards and a bottle of whiskey?”

He raised an eyebrow at this, “You make a good point. At least make me feel useful then. There must be something I can help with.”

Scarlet considered this briefly, and took a box of rice out of a nearby cabinet and handed it to him. “Surely you know how to boil water, right?” Silently she mused that he must have been a great help to his mother when he was a child, and she couldn't help but think back to a time when she would help her own mother in the kitchen, and with household chores.

* * *

They were menial tasks to be sure, but Neil was happy to take them on, grating the cheese, slicing a small lime and avocado into wedges, while the rice cooked, and while Scarlet sliced the jalapeno pepper, and then began frying thin strips of tortilla.

Neil looked over the sliced peppers warily. “It's pretty amazing you'd want to eat something that's also the main ingredient in pepper spray.”

Scarlet laughed softly. “My, what a exaggerated comparison.” She dipped the strainer into the hot oil, swirling it gently so as to keep the tortilla strips from sticking together. “My father was stationed for some time in the US, and being that he was from the dessert southwest, he was quite used to eating spicy foods. Mother once told me he frequently participated in chilli eating contests, so I can only assume I was born with a natural tolerance.”

“Well, that explains why your accent is barely noticeable. If I had to guess, I would have thought you came here from America, or even Canada.”

“Just because I'm am not fluent in native colorful slang does not mean I was not born and raised here. I was simply taught to speak proper English from a very young age. I would assume the same about you.”

Neil smiled and shook his head. “You're right. I shouldn't stereotype. Although I've lost count of how many tourists come through town wantin' to know where all the leprechauns are.”

Scarlet raised an eyebrow and smiled brightly. “Now I _know_ you're exaggerating.” After finishing the necessary preparations, she filled their bowls, garnishing both appropriately, and sat down at a small table.

Neil sat across from her, watching for a brief moment as her demeanor changed from lighthearted to uncertain and solemn. “Something on your mind?”

As the direction of their conversation faded, a feeling of sudden insecurity began filtering into Scarlet's thoughts. She plucked a piece of tortilla chip from the top of her soup and began absently poking at the layers of chicken and rice. “It just occurred to me that if I hadn't locked myself out of my car, you would likely be doing something much more interesting right now.”

“I'm not seeing anyone if that's what you're asking.”

“That was merely an observation, not a question.”

“Really, because it sounded a lot like a question to me. Most girls just tend to be a little more direct in my experience.” Neil paused briefly, considering the source. “Then again, you're not most girls, are you.”

Scarlet looked across the table to her companion. “Alright then, satisfy my curiosity. What type of woman would you normally spend your evenings with? No doubt she's able to handle her liquor and doesn't much care for life outside of the local club scene.”

“If that were true we wouldn't be having this conversation right now.”

“Or it could very well be that you don't have anything better to do at the moment.” Scarlet stood and padded to the sink where where she deposited her bowl.

Neil frowned at the woman's acute mood change. “I'm not sure I understand what's going on here. Why are you so skeptical all of a sudden?”

“I don't understand why you seem so interested in me. “

Mimicking Scarlet's actions, Neil walked took his bowl to the sink as well before coming to stand beside her. “Believe it or not, I'm not really interested in that type of girl. I'd rather spend time with someone I can have a conversation with than someone who's just looking for a good time.”

Pensive, she looked away. “Really...”

He studied her for a brief moment before placing a hand on her shoulder. “So how about answering your own question; how do _you_ like to spend your evenings?”

Scarlet padded to the TV stand in the living room and opened the cabinet underneath. “I enjoy watching old movies.” She looked up as Neil switched off the kitchen light and crossed the short distance to join her. “Quite the blasé hobby, isn't it?”

Neil raised an eyebrow at the sight. “No... Where did you get all these?” First the paintings, then the fact she was good in the kitchen, and now the collection of old movies dating from the early 1940s to the mid 1960s, most of them in the original black and white format.

“From a small handful of the more reputable online auction websites.”

“I thought the old black and white versions were out of print.”

“Generally they are. These are anniversary editions. I often wonder if anyone in this era appreciates solid story execution and genuinely talented actors and actresses. Now it's all about special effects and uninspired dialogue. And then there's the obligatory 'girls with guns' flick that serves as nothing more than eye candy for the majority of the male population.”

Neil grinned. “Hey now, every girl needs to know how to defend herself.”

Scarlet scoffed at this and sighed recalling one of her male co-workers rambling on about the latest zombie invasion movie, and how sexy the female protagonist was as she annihilated hordes of undead while effortlessly wielding several different firearms at one time. She dismissed the thought, attributing it to gender difference, and began to explain further. “I remember watching a lot of these with Mother when I was a child. This one...” she said, picking a movie from the cabinet with the title of Cinderella “...was the last one we watched together before she fell ill.” She put it away, and picked out another instead and put it into the player, and then sat down beside him on the sofa. She tensed slightly when he put his arm around her and pulled her even closer taking her hand and interlacing his fingers with hers. “Are you always so forward with women you know nearly nothing about?”

“No, just the ones I like.” He watched as the production studio's logo appeared on the screen, and then looked to his companion. “I'm guessing this doesn't have anything to do with a sexy blonde saving the world from vampires and aliens.”

Scarlet shot him a noncommittal glare and shook her head. “Ah, the fantasies that occupy the typical male imagination. I am not navie, but frankly I'm still finding the notion of such ideas astounding.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So is it fate? Well, this is my story, so I'll tell you now that it is. That doesn't mean everything is going to be sunshine and roses though. Eventual revelations will make things very awkward, and painful, which is why I've tried to include a decent amount of understated humor. Have patience. There's much more to come.


	4. Chapter 4

_“From childhood's hour I have not been as others were; I have not seen as others saw.” - Edgar Allan Poe_

* * *

It wasn't particularly late when the movie ended, which made it that much more surprising for Neil to find Scarlet curled up next to him, fast asleep. Quietly he took the remote control from the coffee table and muted the volume on the TV, and then took a moment to observe the sleeping woman while simultaneously resigning to spend the night on her sofa. Hoping for the off chance she was a heavy sleeper, Neil gathered the red-head into his arms, and carried her to the bedroom. To his surprise, she stirred only slightly when he placed her on the neatly made bed. Scanning the dimly lit room, he found a blanket on the floor nearby, unfolded it, and let it fall lightly over the her. Satisfied she was adequately tended to, Neil made his way back to the living room and switched off the television before settling down on the sofa. As he began to drift off to sleep, the young Irishman pondered a question that had been nagging at him since he had set foot inside the little apartment. The furnishings were very comfortable, and the decorations stylish, but aside from the paintings, there was a distinct absence of personal effects, mainly pictures of family or friends. Maybe tomorrow she would be willing to offer an explanation.

Several restless hours passed before Neil awoke, this time by a voice that he assumed had come from yet another lucid nightmare. It was odd; normally there was no sound inside these mental time capsules aside from intermittent static and certainly no voices, not even his own. Frustrated at the very inconvenient timing, Neil sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, and sighed. After taking a moment to collect his thoughts, and shelve the feeling of being the unluckiest person alive at that moment, he settled back against the sofa and closed his eyes. The respite was temporary however, as the same sound that had woken him only minutes earlier found its way to his ears once again. This time the source was evident. It hadn't come from his nightmare, but rather the woman sleeping in the room down the hall. Curious, Neil made his way to her room, only to find the blanket twisted around her small frame, her hands clutching it tightly. She was crying, and yet still sound asleep. 

Neil knelt beside the bed, and brushed away strands of tear soaked hair from her face before taking her hand and squeezing it gently. “It's alright now. All you have to do is wake up, okay?”

She drew in a deep, ragged breath, releasing the tension in her neck and back while forcing away the nightmarish fog from her mind, and slowly opened her eyes as he gently wiped away her tears with a tissue. She blinked, still slightly dazed. “You're still here...”

“Did you really expect me to leave while you were sleeping?” He paused before continuing. “You were in a pretty bad state. If you need to talk-”

Scarlet shook her head, sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. “I'd rather not.” After a moment of dizzying silence, she turned to regard her guest. “I hope I didn't wake you.”

He shrugged, and sat down beside her. “I was up anyway.”

She pushed the blanket aside and stood. “Well then, now that I'm awake you can let yourself out. Excuse me.” 

Neil watched as Scarlet padded to the bathroom, presumably to change into something more suitable for sleeping. Instead of leaving, however, he shed his long sleeved button down shirt, pulled back the covers and settled in.

In the interim, Scarlet examined her reflection in the mirror, dismayed at what she saw; her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and her hair was still damp from so many tears. She put some cold water on a washcloth and held it against her burning, irritated skin, and while it was refreshing, it did nothing to improve her disheveled appearance. She wrung the cloth out and hung it on the towel rack to dry before tending to the tangles in her hair with her brush, and otherwise readied herself for bed in a more proper manner. Once finished, she padded to the doorway and switched off the light, only to find Neil waiting for her. Regarding him with much trepidation, Scarlet fixed Neil with an icy glare. “I thought you understood when I said to-”

“I'm not going anywhere until you've convinced me you're stable enough to be left alone.” 

Scarlet's expression softened as she absorbed the sincerity of Neil's words. It was the first time in years she had encountered such genuine concern. She inhaled sharply, and took the empty space next to him, saying nothing, and allowing him to pull her close, where she finally let go and broke down in tears once more. Several minutes passed before she was able to speak; her voice weak and movements unsteady. “I...am not crazy.”

“I know.”

“And I do not want or need your pity.”

He nodded and pulled her even closer. “I know.”

Another few minutes passed before Scarlet fully steadied her breathing. She sat up and rested against the pillow that was leaning against the bed's headboard. She cast her gaze downward, fixing her attention on gingerly folded hands. “Mother always told me that if I stayed strong and true to myself I'd be able to handle anything.” Scarlet paused as if in recollection, her expression troubled. “But no matter how hard I try I cannot escape him; the way he touched me...and the smell of those damned cigarettes...”

Neil noted the way she recoiled as she spoke, suddenly unsure of what to do or say. When he noticed her breathing had started to quicken however, he took a chance and put his hand on her shoulder, and was relieved when she finally looked at him. “Does this _'him'_ have a name?”

She blinked and shook her head. “It's not important.”

“You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, and right now I don't much care about the how or why of it. What matters to me is this -whoever he is- did something to cause you to have nightmares.” Neil's expression turned dark and serious. “Give me his name and I'll make him go away. Permanently.”

There was nothing even remotely humorous about the situation, or her companion's offer. Still, Scarlet couldn't help but start laughing. When the sheer absurdity of such a notion subsided, she smiled at the man beside her. “You really _can_ be a very dangerous man when you want to be, can't you?”

Neil tried his best to feign innocence. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

Scarlet leaned against him and let him take her hand. “His name was Sterling Merryweather, but you really needn't concern yourself with him, Neil.”

“Scarlet-”

“He's dead. Murdered in his sleep by one of his charges.”

Neil paused at the unexpected information, somehow disappointed that someone else had gotten to Merryweather before he had the chance. “Serves him right, rotten bastard.”

Scarlet looked at Neil, puzzled. “You say that, and yet I have not told you the entire story.”

“I was half asleep when I first heard you. When I woke up and stopped to listen, I heard you say some things... How old were you when this started?”

She bit her lip and looked away. “Seven.” She paused, resigning herself to explanation. “He used to burn me with his cigarette if I cried. And sometimes when I didn't.”

Neil seemed quite confused himself. “I don't understand...how did you manage to come into contact with him in the first place?”

“After Mother passed away, I went to live with my grandparents. They hired him to act as my guardian.”

Still clearly perplexed by this, Neil repeated the red-head's words, albeit in a more roundabout fashion. “Your grandparents...hired someone...a man...to take care of a seven year old little girl... Why would they do something so irresponsible?”

Scarlet looked thoughtful. “To this day I still ask myself the same question. I think in a very bizarre sort of way they saw me as a second chance, the caveat being that neither had any interest in raising me themselves. Mother was quite a difficult child from what I know, always wanting to do things her way, and never caring much for authority.” A few seconds passed before she continued. “When they found out about her indiscretions, and subsequent pregnancy, she was quickly disinherited.”

“And your dad?”

“They married not long after, and were quite happy from what Mother told me. I only wish I would have gotten a chance to know him before he was killed.”

Neil nodded. “Now things are starting to make more sense. Do you know what happened to him?”

“My father, Sergeant Jacob Dunham, was killed during a raid on a terrorist compound on the Afghan - Pakistan border. I was only a year old when two men in their formal uniforms came to our house, but somehow I remember it very clearly. Mother was devastated.”

“She sounds like an amazing person, your mom. What was her name? I don't think you mentioned it.”

“Sylvia. Eventually we started to run out of savings, so she ventured out into the workforce. Unfortunately, the long hours began to take their toll, and she fell ill and died.”

“Hey.” Neil released her hand and put his index finger under her chin, tilting her head up so as to meet his gaze. “Smile for me?”

She tried, but instead was only able to release more tears that she'd been willing to stay hidden. 

“Your dad was a hero, and your mom was a force to be reckoned with.” Neil paused in thoughtful consideration. “And you, you're like a rose; beautiful, sweet, and a little prickly at times. So from now on, I'm going to call you Rose. Okay?”

“From now on...?”

He nodded, and then sighed. “Which means I should also be honest with you. Not too long ago I accepted a job offer. I'll be leaving town in about six months.”

Scarlet looked at him, curious. “What will you be doing?”

“I'm not sure really. The guy that I talked to about it said it paid good money, but that's all I know right now.” Silently, Neil scolded himself for lying to Scarlet. By all rights, he shouldn't have mentioned it at all. Still, he was pretty confident he knew what it would do to her if he were to simply disappear without warning. It was true, they only just met, but he was having great difficulty imagining never seeing her again after that night.

Scarlet considered this, wondering how it was even remotely possible that someone could accept a job opportunity and not know the details. Instead of pressing the matter, however, she conceded. “Well, whatever it may be, I am certain you'll be very good at it.” She smiled, and snuggled against him. “So now that you know my life story, how about returning the favor?”

“Me? I'm not that interesting.”

Scarlet smiled. “I find that very hard to believe.”

“Last time I checked, most people don't find routines like going to work, and coming home to a frozen dinner for one very interesting.”

Scarlet huffed softly. “You could at least tell me your last name then.”

“Dylandy.”

Scarlet paused, her expression a mix of thoughtfulness and slight confusion. “Dylandy...why does that sound so familiar to me...?”

“I don't know why it would.” He turned toward her, hoping to divert her attention from the subject. “You know, it's getting pretty late. What do you say we get some sleep.”

Her expression turned to worry, but she said nothing.

“It's okay. If it happens again I can handle it.” 

Scarlet smiled sadly, and laid down, resting her head on her soft down pillow. Almost instinctively, she snuggled up next to Neil, finding absolute comfort in his strong embrace. She closed her eyes, and sighed. “How can I possibly thank you for this...?”

He shifted slightly and kissed her forehead. “You can get some rest. Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere.”

**[xy]**

 

The next morning Neil woke early, setting about retrieving Scarlet's keys from her car after having it relocated to its proper space in front of her apartment. No sooner had he done so, he turned to find Scarlet standing not far away. She was dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans, her hair pulled back in a loose, low ponytail. She crossed her arms, regarding him expectantly. Suddenly the young Irishman felt as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Good morning. I think these belong to you.” He smiled, and handed the red-head her keys.

“Tell me again - I don't think I remember - what did you say you do for a living?”

“I didn't say anything because you never asked.”

Scarlet nodded. “That is very true. I am interested though, so please, feel free to enlighten me.”

“Security systems technician. Mostly installation and maintenance.”

“I see...” She glanced over as Neil deposited a few simple tools in the trunk of his car. “Am I to assume you use those on a regular basis?”

Neil leaned casually against the car and shook his head. “Hardly ever. Not many people own cars with manual locks these days.” 

“So what you're saying is, that you could have easily unlocked my car for me last evening, but instead chose to let me believe you were my one and only salvation from the approaching rainstorm.”

Neil's eyebrows knit together at the woman's accusatory tone. “When you put it like that it sounds like some kind of sinister plot.”

She smiled up at him as they walked back toward the apartment building. “I suppose I should consider myself lucky then.”

“Well, it's not like I ever aspired to doing something like this. It just so happens that the business is owned by a family friend who was willing to let me work for him after-” He paused just as he realized what he had almost said “after I finished school.”

“That's very kind of him.” As they stepped inside, she turned to face him directly. “Were you planning to stay for breakfast?”

Neil shook his head. “I can't. I'm already-” he paused briefly to check the time on his watch, “almost two hours late for work.”

“Dinner then? I have the day off, so I'll have time to go to the market and get some things to make a proper meal.”

He took her hand and stepped closer to her. “That sounds great. Same time?”

Scarlet nodded and smiled, allowing him to lean in and kiss her softly. “I'll be waiting.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you, but sometimes I read something that an author has written into a story, and had to wonder why they did it. With that in mind, let me explain briefly about Scarlet trying to remember where she had heard Neil's last name. I don't know how the news media works over seas, but when something catastrophic happens resulting in mass casualties, it isn't uncommon for the names of the victims to be listed on a crawler at the bottom of a news broadcast over here. Now, I don't think she was living in the same town as he was at the time (of the bombing), so that's why she wouldn't automatically make the association. Also, yes, I know Neil's official bio like the back of my hand, and I know his occupation here doesn't quite mesh, but hey, I don't think it's totally out of the realm of possibility either. Not to mention it's a convenient plot device. And oh, 'those damned cigarettes' *cue dramatic music* Yes my pretties, that was intentional foreshadowing. :D


	5. Chapter 5

“ _Love feels no burden, thinks nothing of its trouble, attempts what is above its strength, pleads no excuse for impossibility, for it thinks all things are lawful for itself and all things are possible.” - Thomas A. Kempis_

* * *

The week passed in a typical fashion, their days dominated by the usual work and errands. The nights however, were anything but typical, both musing on one occasion or another that this new routine of dinner and the subsequent intimate evenings felt very much like a newly married couple, though, even as the week's end neared, there had been a decided lack of heated affection. The decision was mutual, partly due to the fact she still had an unconscious habit of flinching under his touch, and that he'd found her up in the middle of the night; paintbrush in hand at a nearly covered canvas. She'd apologize for waking him, and he'd reply by simply carrying her back to bed, and gently massaging away the offending tension in her neck and shoulders.

Neil was already awake when the alarm clock sounded that Saturday morning. It was early, and he hated the thought of waking her. Thinking back to the previous night, he recalled awakening just after midnight, alone, the space beside him empty and cold. Glancing toward the bedroom door he had noticed it pulled to, and framed by the faint glow of a lamp down the hall. She was awake. Again. She had sworn to him that it didn't happen every night, and he knew she believed her own words, but the reality was that it did, though he suspected she just wasn't able to remember. A brief few minutes passed as he watched her sleep, finally deciding it best to let her be for as long as it took him to get ready.

Scarlet stirred slightly as he slipped out of bed. It was still dark, save for a few bits of stray moonlight that danced in through the window. She turned in his direction, still not fully awake. “What are you doing up?”

He bent down and kissed her cheek. “Good morning. It's almost time to get up.”

She blinked, and rubbed her eyes. “I'm either having a bad dream or you're just being cruel.”

“You're not, and you know better than that.”

“The day I get out of bed at...” she rolled over and looked at the clock, “5:30 in the morning Hell will have been thoroughly frozen over for some time.”

“I thought you would want to pack a few things before we leave.”

Scarlet's sleep induced daze quickly became mixed with confusion. “Leave?” She sat up, switched on the bedside lamp, and then pulled her hair back into a lose ponytail. “Neil, I have to work this weekend, remember?”

“Don't worry about that. I already cleared it with your boss.”

She frowned. “I don't recall ever giving you permission to-”

“It'll be fine, Rose. I promise you won't be disappointed. Besides, you're getting paid either way, so why not?”

“How did you get-” she paused, setting aside her curiosity at how he'd managed to convince her boss to pay her even though she wouldn't be there, and moved on to the blatantly obvious. “I'm going to venture a guess and say your determination renders my desire to go back to sleep useless.”

He smiled, and kissed her cheek. “You can sleep in the car.”

Scarlet sighed, obviously having lost the battle before it had even begun. “Alright, but I at least get time to make myself presentable for...whatever it is you have in mind.” She pulled back the covers and padded to the dresser where she took out an outfit and then headed for the shower. She closed the door and began the water running before padding back to the door, opening it just slightly. “I assume you'll want me to leave it running, correct?”

Neil nodded. “That should give you enough time to get ready.”

Scarlet's eyes narrowed. “Are you insinuating that because I'm a woman it automatically means I need several hours to ready myself for an outing?”

Neil waved a hand dismissively and shook his head. “Of course not. Now if you don't mind, I really don't like the thought of having to take a cold shower.”

Scarlet merely sighed at her companion's playful tease as she closed the door and set the lock.

* * *

Neil warmed up the car while Scarlet made sure that everything inside was unplugged and turned off. Taking his cell from his jacket pocket, he opened it, checking for any new messages, voice mail or otherwise, and then turned it off. The rest of the world would have to take care of their own problems for the next day and a half. A few minutes later she emerged from the small apartment carrying small a suitcase and a blanket. The last time he'd checked it didn't seem like she had enough to warrant something most people only reserve for longer vacations. Apparently she decided to add a few things.

Opening the passenger side door, he took the suitcase and put it in the back seat. “We're not going to be gone that long you know.”

She settled into the seat, leaning it back and covered up with the blanket. “If you would have told me where we're going I could have been more efficient, but since you've basically refused I had to plan for every conceivable situation.”

“If I tell you that it won't be a surprise.”

“I don't like surprises.” she replied while covering a yawn.

[xy]

The sun began to peek over the horizon, its rays quickly obscured by a blanket of white-gray clouds. The further they traveled the more it looked like rain. Finally safely out of town he was able to focus less on morning traffic and more on the would-be perils of driving in the countryside, mainly watching for anything that might dart across the road, as well as avoiding the occasional roadkill. His attention was drawn back to her when she shifted, slowly opening her eyes and pulling the blanket tighter around her small frame. He glanced at the clock. She'd been sound asleep for almost three hours. “I was wondering how long you were going to sleep.”

Scarlet looked out the window taking in the morning scenery. Without warning her stomach protested the lack of breakfast. “Next time, please give me a chance to bring some food, okay?”

“We should be coming up on a town in about a half hour. We'll get something there.”

She nodded in acceptance, although not entirely fond of the notion that “something” most likely translated into processed food warmed under a heat lamp.

“I've been meaning to ask you something.”

“Hm?”

“How did a rich girl like you learn to cook?”

She frowned. “I'll thank you not to refer to me in such a way.” Looking away for a moment, she recalled the events that would answer his query. “I was fourteen when Merryweather was finally caught and fired. After that I knew that one day I'd have to take care of myself, so I spent as much time as I could with the staff. They taught me everything I needed to know about cooking and cleaning, that sort of thing. I left a week after my eighteenth birthday.”

“Left? Without any preparations? I really can't imagine you living in a shelter, or worse, on a street corner.”

Scarlet raised an eyebrow at Neil's assumption. “Clearly I've given you the wrong idea. It's true that I had no friends or family to take me in. However, I _was_ given access to a small trust fund. I used most of it to find a place to live, and buy all the necessities. The rest I put away for any unforeseen circumstances. Or possibly to have as a cushion if I ever found someone I could start a family with.” She paused thoughtfully. “I have overheard many a young customer talk about unexpected financial difficulties after entering into a serious relationship. I hope to avoid something of that nature if at all possible.”

He nodded while slowing the car at an animal crossing sign. “That makes a lot more sense.” Satisfied that the way was clear, Neil had the car resume it's previous speed. “For what it's worth, you're going to be a wonderful wife and mother.”

Scarlet looked over at him, surprised and with her cheeks beginning to flush pink. “Thank you, Neil. That's...very kind of you to say.”

As promised, they stopped for a late breakfast, and then continued the journey to their destination. She tried asking again where they were going, and again he refused to tell her. A short while passed and she had nodded off again, the motion of the car and the now familiar scents of his black leather jacket and cologne lulling her back to sleep.

* * *

It was just after 12:30 when he woke her. Shivering just a little, Scarlet opened her eyes, suddenly finding the surroundings very familiar. She stared out the window for several minutes, tears threatening to cloud her vision. Now she knew what all the secrecy had been about. Steadying her breathing, and wiping away a few salty drops from her cheeks, she looked at him wide eyed. “How on Earth did you...?”

“I have resources.”

Once she had managed to calm herself they took the short walk to the front door of the house. An elderly couple answered the door welcoming them into what had once been Scarlet's childhood home. Scarlet was mostly silent while Neil and the elderly couple made small talk about how the trip had been so far. After dispensing with such pleasantries, the old woman escorted the two into another part of the house; to a room that they had sealed off after moving in. She took a small key and unlocked the door, and left the two alone.

Scarlet walked in and looked around the room. “It's exactly the same as the day I left.” She sat down on the child sized canopy bed, picking up one of the many stuffed animals that had resided there for so many years. “It's okay if you want to come in.” she said, turning her attention toward the doorway.

Stepping just inside Neil took in the sight of the small room. The walls were painted pink and accented with hand stenciled designs of puffy clouds, rainbows, and butterflies. Stenciled designs aside, there were precisely hung paintings of unicorns, mermaids, and other magical creatures The neatly made bed was draped all in white, with the tiny dresser and desk painted the same. It was about as girlish as a room could get.

She couldn't help but be amused at how uncomfortable he seemed. Smiling at him, she turned and went to the tiny dresser, opening the lid of the jewelry box that sat atop it. Carefully picking through a few things, she finally took out a necklace. Untangling the silver chain, she laid it out in the palm of her hand, tracing the edges of the pendant with her fingertip. “I wonder if I can still wear this...”

Curious, he went to her side. The chain was thin, the pendant a tiny cross with a diamond chip in the center. “Let's find out.” He took it from her, carefully letting the cross fall across the front of her neck while hooking the old fashioned loop clasp in the back.

“You're did that surprisingly well.”

“My sister used to wear things like this all the time.”

 _'Sister?'_ This was the first time he had made any mention of his family. She turned and looked up at him. Once again he had that far away look as if he were lost in some distant memory. She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Neil...”

For a while he held her tight knowing she had questions of her own, but he just wasn't ready to answer them. “We should be going soon.”

* * *

The furniture had to be left behind, but they were able to take all of the more portable items, one of which just happened to be a framed photograph of Sylvia, Jacob, and little Scarlet that had been perched atop the dresser next to the jewelry box. So far everything had turned out even better than he had hoped. After loading the items into the car, the two thanked the elderly couple, and left.

Scarlet had picked one of the stuffed animals to accompany her, studying it as if this had been the first time she'd seen it. “You really didn't have to go to all this trouble. Why didn't you just have them send these things in the mail?”

He responded with a very boyish and mischievous grin. “Because this is the only way we'll get to the fun part.”

She hugged her fuzzy little companion tight. It always made her nervous when he said things like that. “We're not going home, are we.”

Indeed she was correct. A little less than an hour later they arrived at a quaint inn that sat a safe distance away from the ocean while still maintaining a clear view. A narrow set of steps led down to the beach, and not far away an old lighthouse towered over restless white capped waves.

After checking in and settling into the room, they went into town for dinner. Anything that even resembled fine dining had never been his forté, however, this was the perfect excuse to get her to wear that little black dress she'd laid out on the bed that morning.

“Honestly, it's not a crime to add a little salt here and there.” She dipped the spoon down into the bowl letting a small amount of the warm liquid flow into it before pouring it back. “Don't you think so?”

The dress in question would have been rather plain had she not accessorized it the way she had, and while the adornments were nice, his true focus was on how the fabric accentuated her figure. Just then the voice of his mother echoed in his mind; that it wasn't polite to stare. “So I heard that they keep the lighthouse open for tourists.”

Scarlet's eyes narrowed at this. “Obviously you haven't heard anything I've said, have you?”

“Of course I have.”

“Really. Tell me, what would you do to make the bisque more palatable?”

“I would...” Neil paused, searching for an answer that would suit the temperamental red-head. “I would leave that up to you, and tell you how beautiful you are while you're doing it.”

She smiled and shook her head, a light blush washing over her cheeks. “That's very sweet.”

Neil's gaze followed her as she pushed her chair away from the table and stood. “Where are you going?”

“To find the head chef.”

He stood quickly and caught her hand. “Oh no you're not. If you're really that unhappy we can go somewhere else. The inn might still be serving dinner even.”

Scarlet's determined expression softened. “I am not unhappy. Quite the opposite in fact.” She looked down, suddenly feeling guilty. “I'm sorry. You've gone to so much trouble and here I am obsessing over something so trivial as seasoning.”

“If it makes any difference, you're right, the soup could use a little...something.”

“Bisque.”

Neil shrugged. “You say bisque, I say soup. I don't really see much of a difference.”

A slight smirk crossed Scarlet's features. “Good heavens, what a very man-like thing to say.”

Neil squeezed her hand gently. “I suppose if you really feel the need to complain go ahead, just don't do it so that we end up leaving this place in handcuffs, okay?”

“You have a very vivid imagination.”

“I have a very stubborn, headstrong girlfriend. Come on, I'll pay the check so we can go.”

Scarlet looked up at him, blinking curiously. “Girlfriend?”

Neil smiled and nodded. “In the technical sense.”

“Of course...” Scarlet nodded and fell in step beside him as they walked toward the cashier who was perched on a bar stool near the open doorway. As she waited for the transaction to complete, Scarlet contemplated how such a simple word from her date could cause her emotions to suddenly become so conflicted. The whole affair had been absolutely irrational from the start, and yet she couldn't deny looking forward to each new day with an increasing eagerness she hadn't felt since she was a young girl.

As the cashier's voice filtered into her consciousness, Scarlet quickly snapped her attention away from the conundrum, while once again beginning to walk beside her companion as they headed outside to Neil's car. “Where are we going?” It was a perfectly innocent, legitimate question, and yet to her ears it sounded very much like she was trying to avert from a very awkward subject.

Neil opened the passenger side door for her, as per usual. “You'll see.”

Scarlet stopped beside him, standing firmly in place. “Well then, as your girlfriend,” she paused making air quotes, “in the 'technical sense' as you say, I refuse to leave this spot until you tell me where we're going.”

Neil chuckled, and shook his head at the re-emergence of her stubborn streak. “I thought we'd take a tour of the lighthouse just down the way from the inn.”

Scarlet stiffened at this, and looked away. “Oh...”

“You could at least _pretend_ to be excited.”

“I...I heard the inn keeper's wife telling one of the other patrons the lighthouse is haunted.” She sighed inwardly and entered the car finally allowing Neil to close the door.

He followed, getting into the driver's seat and closing the door. “It's probably just a local legend generated to draw more tourism. God knows this area could use the revenue.”

Scarlet looked over at him, visibly apprehensive. “And if it isn't just a legend?”

Neil shrugged and started the car. “Then it's probably a friendly ghost. You know, like Casper.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes and sunk down in the seat with a sarcastic huff. “Yes of course. I'm sure whatever resides there will behave exactly as the old cartoon character; personable and welcoming.”

Neil glanced over at her, his blue-green eyes conveying amusement. “You worry _way_ too much. Has anyone ever told you that? It'll be fine, trust me.”

* * *

The journey from the restaurant back to the inn and nearby lighthouse was a short one. Neil turned the car onto the narrow, unpaved path that lead to the towering, majestic structure, and pulled the car off to one side of the road. They exited the vehicle together, each turning to look at the tall, solid landmark. Neil took Scarlet's hand, resisting the urge to instead wrap an arm around her waist. Slowly they began walking up the path to the previous, long dead keeper's house. “I've always wanted to live in a place like this.”

Scarlet's brow creased. “Maintaining such a place is very difficult from what I understand.” She paused in consideration. “Although, if this old house is any indication, a few renovations and it would make a very quaint home. Cozy in fact.” She paused again contemplating another draw back. “I've also heard it can be quite dangerous. I don't think I'd want to be-” she looked up and pointed at the observation windows “up there during a bad storm.”

They neared the little house, and Neil tested the front door finding that it was indeed unlocked. He peered inside, and motioned Scarlet in after determining it was safe to enter. As the young Irishman had assumed, the scene had been obviously staged in order to give the impression someone lived there. There were dishes on the shelves in the tiny kitchen, and comfortable looking furniture in what looked to be the living room. The most impressive feature of the house however, was the long bay window that looked down the hillside at the beach. “See, not bad, right?”

Scarlet walked across the room and peered out the large window, taking note that there were flowers growing out of the normal reach of the tide. She nodded. “Yes. It does seem rather romantic, doesn't it?”

Neil smiled at the wistful, almost dreamy expression that graced the woman's features. He then gestured to a nearby, open doorway that led to what seemed to be a winding staircase. “How about getting a bird's eye view?”

Scarlet's expression quickly changed from wistful to pensive, but she said nothing.

“You're not afraid of heights, are you?”

“Aren't most people?”

“I was hoping we could watch the sun set over the ocean.”

At that moment a tiny voice in the back of Scarlet's mind was telling her that she must be dreaming; that all of this was far too good to be true, even her companion. “I am very prone to vertigo.”

Neil started to say something, but Scarlet cut him off before he could utter a single word.

“If you say 'trust me' one more time I'll...” She stopped in mid thought, searching for a continuation that sounded at least vaguely threatening.

Neil grinned at this, once again clearly amused. “Go on.”

Scarlet shook her head. “I don't know, but given enough time I will think of something.”

“That's fine. I can wait. Until then, let's see the what we can before it gets dark.”

She nodded, reassuming her place at his side. “I suppose you're right. It'll be fine.”

And so they ascended the winding staircase until coming to the observation room, which offered a view that went on for as far as the eye could see. No sooner had they come to stand in the middle of the circular space, the dark, heavy clouds parted allowing the sun to brighten and color the remaining wisps a stunning coppery-pink.

Neil remained in his place, watching Scarlet as she tentatively neared the large storm windows. “Okay so far?”

She paused and crossed her arms, then looked back at him and shook her head. “Cold.”

Neil's brow furrowed. “It might have been cold up here before the sun came out, but-” Before he could finish, Neil caught sight of a shadow in his peripheral vision, followed by the previously warmed room's temperature dropping significantly. Suddenly the air had become heavy, with a dark and menacing feel that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. Careful not to disclose his alarm, Neil went to Scarlet and took her hand. “It is a little drafty, isn't it? Why don't we head back.”

Scarlet gave him a skeptical look. “To think you were the one who was so adamant we come here, and now you want to leave so soon.”

Neil sighed. “Truth?”

“Please.”

“I think what you heard about this place being haunted might be true.”

“So you noticed, did you?”

“I'd like to hear the skeptics explain away what happened here just now.” He looked up as if disembodied spirits really did make a habit of floating around at ceiling level. “Don't worry, we're leaving now. Have fun doing whatever it is you do here.”

As promised, they exited through the doorway and descended the heavy, iron staircase. Once outside and half way down the path they both stopped and looked back just in time to see the large spotlight flicker on and then off. Scarlet looked up sideways at Neil. “I sincerely hope we won't be having any stowaways accompanying us on our way home.”

Neil shook his head and squeezed her shoulder gently before running a fingertip over the cross pendant hanging from the thin chain around her neck. “I think we'll be fine. Can't blame him for not wanting total strangers in his home.”

The dark clouds that had departed earlier quickly reasserted their dominance over the early evening sky, promptly showering the two with tiny pin pricks of water as they walked back to Neil's car. Scarlet looked up at her partner. “Him?”

Neil chuckled as he opened the passenger door for his date. “I take it you're going to start lecturing me on the virtues of girl power now?”

Scarlet smiled at him. “Thank you, kind sir.” After he closed her door and took his position in the driver's seat opposite her, she continued. “To assume whatever confronted us was a man in a former life would likely sound very sexist in mixed company. I believe it would be more accurate to say 'it' instead.”

Neil shrugged, and began backing the car in the direction of the main road leading back to the inn. “Him, her, it; does it really matter? Chances are good whoever comes into contact with a ghost of either gender is probably going to have the piss scared out of them.”

“And yet you were rather calm; as if my pendant would keep it from harming us. Am I to assume you, Neil Dylandy, are superstitious?”

“I'm Irish. Of course I'm superstitious. Just because I don't carry a four-leaf clover or rabbit's foot in my pocket all the time doesn't mean anything.”

For a moment Scarlet was thoughtfully silent. “Sometimes I dream about my mother; as if she were still alive and we're having a conversation, or even a meal together. And she's always the way I remember her when I was a girl, radiant with that same kind smile and gentleness.” She looked over at Neil. “Is that strange?”

Neil shook his head, his voice reelecting more solemness than intended. “No, it's not strange at all.”

Scarlet studied him for a few brief seconds, allowing the subject to expire after noting his now somber expression. It was becoming increasingly evident that time did not, in fact, heal all wounds.

* * *

Back at the inn, Scarlet had gone to change out of her dress and heels, leaving Neil to his own devices. He switched the TV on, only to find another news report on the AEU – his own place of origin – engaging in allegedly illegal arms trading. Unconsciously he clenched his teeth, feeling his jaw tighten, and the muscles in his neck tense. It was bad enough that the Real IRA had been dealing in such nefarious matters for so many hundreds of years resulting in the deaths of many innocents, but to know that the respective governments of the bloc were willing to arm anyone that was able to provide adequate compensation was inexcusable. Not only that, but the apparent fact that the other blocs chose to turn a blind eye to this practice only added insult to injury.

At the sound of the bathroom door opening, Neil switched off the television, instantly suppressing the internal negativity that the news story had elicited. She had no idea that such things as world affairs put him on edge, and he wasn't about to reveal that side of himself to her.

Scarlet perched on the edge of the bed next to him, having traded her formal wear for a pale green, wide-strapped nightie adorned at the edges with delicate white lace. “If I remember correctly, there are many that can claim the high heeled shoe as their own invention, and I am confident that every one of them was both a sadist _and_ a masochist.” She looked over at Neil immediately sensing that he wasn't interested in idle chatter. Ever since concluding the conversation they had had after leaving the lighthouse, his mood had become increasingly distant. She reached over and put her hand on his. “Something's troubling you.”

His eyes met hers as he caressed her delicate fingers gently. “No...” He shook his head and looked away. He had expected her to be wearing something much less revealing; not that the nightie was by any means improper, but it did fit her in such a way that he was finding it almost impossible not to focus on the way it complimented her small frame. He let go of her hand and stood. “I'm going out for a walk. Make sure you lock the door after I leave.”

Scarlet looked puzzled. “A walk...”

Neil cast his eyes downward, “I just need to get some air – clear my head.” It would have far too easy to channel his frustrations in a much more constructive and entertaining fashion; to please the woman he'd grown so quickly fond of, to not have to calculate the very real chances she might slip into the darkest recesses of her long damaged psyche, to wish their respective traumas away and pretend the outside world no longer existed, and equally as important, avoid asking her a question he wasn't sure he wanted an answer to.

Scarlet's attention fell to a slight wrinkle in the fabric of her nightie. Disappointed and saddened, she began absently rubbing the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. “I thought you might like it you know. To tell you the truth, I bought it several years ago, not quite knowing why, and...I remember putting it back, fully intending to leave the store without it, but at the last minute I went back for it.” She paused in an attempt to gather her thoughts. “When I returned home I put it away, and forgot about it until you said we were going away...” She sighed heavily. “I suppose I was expecting too much, wasn't I?”

It was clear to Neil that even after a walk this wasn't going away, and it didn't take a psychology degree to know what she was getting at. He turned and sat down beside her once again. “That's not true.”

This time Scarlet was the one to distance herself. Standing, she padded over to a large, rectangular shaped mirror and began scrutinizing her reflection. “There's no need for excuses, I understand. You're afraid of me.”

After a moment he stood as well. Walking over, he stopped behind her and wrapped his arms securely around her lithe frame. “I didn't plan all this just to get you into bed.”

She turned her head to the side, craning her neck to look up at him. “But you would think this all a mistake if that's how the trip ends?”

Neil shook his head, brushed her hair aside and nuzzled her neck. “That's not it at all.”

“Then what?”

And there it was, the question he never wanted to ask staring him straight in the face. “I need to know if you're still-” It made him literally sick to his stomach that he'd ever have to ask something like this.

“A virgin? That depends on if you want to argue semantics.” She turned to face him directly. “If you're asking if I've given myself to a man in my adult life, the answer is no, I haven't. Mr. Merryweather was more fond of his very busy hands than anything else, so I can tell you honestly I don't know what sex feels like.” She eyed him with curiosity. “Do you find that surprising?”

Neil glanced to his left briefly considering what he believed to be two possible scenarios. “I don't know...”

Scarlet tilted her head to one side. “Surely you must have come to some sort of conclusion by now; perhaps that I've spent unreasonable amounts of time seeking validation from complete strangers.”

His eyes narrowed at her insinuation. “Don't put words in my mouth, Scarlet. You're not a nymphomaniac, that much I know.”

Scarlet blinked and raised an eyebrow. “I will save my inquiry into _how_ you know this for another time I suppose.” She paused, steadying her determination. “Answer my question then. What are you afraid of?”

“I don't want things to become anymore complicated than they already are.”

In Scarlet's mind, Neil was the one one complicating the situation with such chivalrous denial, and her patience was quickly thinning. She fixed him with a pointed look. “Apparently you weren't listening when I told you I don't want or need your pity. I am no longer a child and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop treating me as one.”

He took her hands in his, and looked deep into her emerald green eyes. “Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?”

She stepped close to him, pressing her body against his. “I am willing to learn everything you have to teach me.”

Neil chuckled as the tension, uncertainty, and misdirected guilt faded. Her words held confidence, and at that moment, there was nothing in her body language to suggest she had any doubts on what she wanted. He lowered his head and leaned in bringing his face only millimeters from her own, his voice lowering to a whisper. “Everything you say?” Not allowing her to answer right away, Neil caught Scarlet's lips in a light, teasing kiss.

When he pulled away, she exhaled breathlessly, a distinct tingling sensation washing over her as she felt his fingertips trace the neckline of her nightie. “Yes, everything.”

Lesson one was conducted under dim lights, and in front of the mirror.

* * *

Neil pulled the blankets around himself and the petite, naked woman who was snuggled up beside him. They hadn't spoken for some time afterward, Neil letting Scarlet collect her thoughts and sob in quiet joy and relief. When she had finally regained her wits, he shifted and turned to her. He grinned and kissed her forehead. “So, on a scale of one to five, how would you rate me as a teacher?”

Scarlet giggled softly. “Ten. You seem to be quite skilled. Although I do harbor an extreme amount of bias having no prior points of reference.”

Neil began methodically combing his fingers through her silky red hair. “Well, you know what they say about practice. Although I wouldn't call myself perfect.” He studied her very contented features before continuing. “When you flinched and then told me you were okay, were you telling the truth?”

“Would you have continued if you thought otherwise?” When he didn't answer, she nodded. “Yes...that is when you told me to open my eyes, which helped greatly in returning me to reality. I really don't know how to explain it, except to say that he was quite aggressive more often than not, but you were... _are_ so gentle and attentive that the fear was greatly diminished.”

“You promised to tell me if I did anything to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Scarlet sighed. “I am tired of living in the past, always worrying and erring on the side of extreme caution and second guessing myself.” She paused, considering recent events carefully. “I know it sounds irrational for someone such as myself to be inexplicably drawn to a man I've only known for a few days, but I am beginning to think we were brought together for a reason, and that may be why I have little trouble trusting you.”

Whether it was fate that had brought them together was unimportant to him. What was important was she hadn't been completely honest with him. “Next time I expect you to tell me the truth. All of it, okay?”

She nodded in compliance. “So what will lesson two involve?”

Neil kissed the back of her hand. “Baby steps, love. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

For a moment Scarlet was silent, finally allowing herself the realization that her partner was not nearly as complacent as she was. “You're upset with me.”

Neil gave her a warm, reassuring smile. After all, he had expected a certain level of apprehension on her part. Whether it was truly an unconscious reaction he may never know. “No, I'm not. As a matter of fact, it's good knowing that I don't have to live up to someone else's reputation.”

Scarlet looked surprised. “That's really something you would worry about?”

Neil grinned impishly. “Of course not!” He shrugged, his expression having lightened considerably. “But other, less worldly gentlemen probably do.”

Again, Scarlet giggled softly, her eyes sparkling in the room's recessed lighting. “ _You_ are impossibly wicked.” She leaned in for a very playful kiss. “And charming.”

“Careful now. You keep inflating my ego like that it just might explode.”

Scarlet blinked. “That sounds vaguely salacious. And possibly unsanitary.”

Neil chuckled and kissed her cheek lightly. “You always have to take things so literally.” He reached over and switched off the bedside lamp, and closed his eyes. “It's been an eventful day, hasn't it.”

She shifted again, curling up next to him, letting her head rest on his shoulder. Sleep would come quickly, but first there was one last curiosity that demanded his attention. “Your first time – how old were you?”

Even in the dark, Neil's expression reflected surprise. “Fourteen.”

“Quite young then.”

He sighed. “It was...unplanned and...well, a complete disaster. Neither of us were really prepared.”

“You loved her?”

Neil considered the question carefully. “Maybe. Maybe not. It's difficult to tell at that age.” There was an uneasy pause before he continued. “A little while after, she told her mother because she was late.” He felt Scarlet stiffen at this. “Even though the test was negative, the next thing either of us knew her parents were sending her off to school half way around the world.”

Scarlet closed her eyes, exhaling in silent relief. “How awful for you.”

“It was probably for the best. Her parents couldn't stand me anyway, and there were times when I was sure she was just using me to make them angry.” He turned, and regarded her. “Now it's your turn. What does the 'L' in your middle name stand for?”

“Lily.”

“Scarlet Lily Dunham. It suits you.” With that, he pulled the blankets tighter around both of them, and drifted off to sleep.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

“ _The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched – they must be felt with the heart.” - Helen Keller_

* * *

 

Things went well after their short weekend away. Neil often mused at how quickly he'd grown accustom to her natural ability to act as a caretaker. At first he had to dispel all of the doubts she had about his intentions after their first night of intimacy. Once he had successfully done that, the remaining protective walls she relied so heavily on fell, revealing the woman she truly was; sweet, trusting, and easy to please, though not without a temper. The mere suggestion that she tended to be a bit vain in regards to her culinary skills was a monumental mistake. To him it was just an innocent observation. That was the first, and only night he spent on the sofa.

In recent weeks, however, he began to notice a change in her behavior. Scarlet told him that it was simply due to an unusual amount of difficult customers, combined with long hours causing her to be very tired, irritable, and generally disinterested in almost everything. Initially he took her word for it, but was no longer content to do so when he came home to find her in the kitchen, tears streaming down her cheeks, and stating blankly at the blade of a very sharp knife.

She jumped when he took the knife from her and laid it on the counter. “You're early...” It bothered her that she couldn't think to say more than that.

“Actually, I'm a little late.” He took her hand, turning it over so she could see the bloody scratches on her wrist.

Her expression quickly changed from bewilderment to mortification. “I-how did this happen...”

“You don't remember?”

Scarlet shook her head, confusion and worry evident in her features. “No... What time is it?”

Neil looked at his watch. “Just before six. How long have you been here like this, Rose?”

Looking around the tiny kitchen, she realized that she had barely started the task at hand. “Almost an hour, apparently.” Pensive, she flattened her palms against the counter top, bracing against the cabinets. “Why is this happening again?”

It would have been surprising had she not told him she'd been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder years earlier. To make matters worse, she had suffered a panic attack the night before. Gently forcing her away from the counter, he pulled her into his arms letting her sob quietly. “This is why I asked you to call your doctor.”

A long silence followed before she was able to speak again. “When are you going to tire of this?”

“What are you talking about?.”

“You know you have the choice to-”

“To what, just walk away because of something that you never asked for and can't control?” He pulled away slightly and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You can try to convince me all you want, but that's not gonna happen. Besides, I know what it's like.”

“I'm still waiting for the day when you'll tell me why you continue to say things like that.”

“Right now the only person you need to worry about is yourself.” She had that look; the one that without a single word voiced frustration and disappointment. “Look, I get it okay, but now's not the time, so stop trying to change the subject.”

“You honestly think I won't understand, don't you?”

Not once had she pursued the matter so directly. Suddenly feeling defensive, he let her go, and tried to put as much distance between himself and Scarlet as possible without actually leaving. Arms crossed he leaned against the wall next to the front door. “Don't do this, Scarlet.”

She followed, but kept her distance, coming to stop directly opposite of where he stood. Clasping her hands behind her back, she broke the uneasy silence. “You're a fine one to talk about changing the subject, Neil. Do _not_ patronize me. I know you've spent more than a few hours up at night yourself.”

In past the very same observation would come too quickly, and refusal to let his guard down always lead to doubt, harsh words, and hurt feelings. Even now, he knew she was only forcing the issue out of fear and frustration. Unfortunately, he wasn't faring much better, finding it difficult to keep from becoming too upset with her. Without another word he opened the door and stepped out into the cold in hopes it would help him reclaim some semblance of objectivity.

Startled at how forcefully he'd closed the door behind him, Scarlet sat down on the sofa and rested her head in her hands.

* * *

Sighing heavily, Neil rested against the building's rough, wind chilled bricks. A few moments passed, and just as he was about to go inside when his cell began to chirp from inside his jacket pocket. Checking the caller ID he answered.

“This'd better be important.” He paused, listening to voice at the other end of the connection. “You're absolutely sure about this? If it ends up being another wild goose chase I quit. -- That's not the point. – Alright fine. I'll leave first thing tomorrow.”

Disconnecting the call, he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. Following a brief moment of thought, he walked to his car and retrieved a small, wrapped box from under the seat, and headed back inside where he found Scarlet on the sofa, her net-book resting on her lap and papers lined up neatly on the coffee table. Crossing the short distance from entry way to sofa, he sat down beside her

Scarlet cast him a quick glance before returning her attention to the screen. Having traded admittedly misplaced ire for something more productive, she squinted, pointing to something specific. “My water bill has gone up since we've been together.” She paused, comparing the numbers on the screen to the ones on the paper. “This wouldn't have happened if you didn't have such a fondness for trying to seduce me while I'm trying to get ready for work.”

He grinned and raised an eyebrow at this revelation. “Are you complaining?”

It was impossible to be angry with him for long. Still, she did her best to suppress what would have been a wide smile. “No, I'm simply stating a fact. See for yourself.”

Neil looked at the numbers in question. “It's not that bad. I guess I should be paying my share though.” It was a great relief that she was still talking to him, so much in fact he'd forgotten that he had set the little box down on the table in front of them.

Scarlet looked at it, puzzled. “What's that?”

He hadn't planned on giving it to her so soon, or possibly at all, but under the circumstances it seemed like a good idea. He picked up the little box and handed it to her. “It's just a little something I thought you'd like.”

Scarlet paled. Only jewelry came in such small boxes. Judging by the size of this one, it had to be a ring. Carefully, she untied the silver ribbon, and with trembling fingers she unwrapped it, making sure not to tear the paper. Taking the black velvet covered box from the paper, she hesitated and looked at him, coherent speech eluding her.

It seemed odd her reaction would make him this nervous. After all, it wasn't as if he were proposing marriage. “Well, go on.”

She lifted the lid on the box to find a small, gold ring, the inscription reading ' _GRA ANOIS AGUS GO DEO',_ the translation on the inside being ' _Love Now and Forever'._ It took quite a bit of effort, but she managed to find her voice once again. “You really shouldn't have...”

Neil took her hand, his expression becoming thoughtful. “This wasn't supposed to happen. All I wanted was to give some nice memories to look back on when the time comes, but all I really did was...”

She exhaled nervously. “What are you saying?”

He hesitated to answer. For anyone else this should be a happy occasion. “I love you, Rose.”

She shook her head and looked away. “You don't mean that.”

“I wish I didn't.”

She let go of his hand, and set the box back on the table. “It's very nice...but...I can't accept this. I'm sorry.”

“I know you feel the same way about me. You talk in your sleep.” He took the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger. “Let's just make the best of things while we can.”

She thought for a moment, and nodded. “I called Doctor Sanders. She just happened to have an opening tomorrow morning.”

“Good. Make sure you keep it.”

Scarlet leaned against him, letting herself relax. “She wants you to come with me.”

He put an arm around her. “I can't. I've been called out of town.”

“Out of town?”

He nodded. “I got a call when I was outside.”

Finding this very strange, Scarlet turned to look at him. “Do they always call you after hours like this?”

His answer was short, and intentionally vague. “Sometimes. It shouldn't be for very long.”

She was having a hard time keeping the skepticism out of her voice. “I see. Well then, I suggest we do whatever it takes to salvage the rest of the evening.”

Neil kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Not tonight love. I don't want a repeat of last night's panic attack. You can't continue pretending that everything's alright, and I...” 

Scarlet sighed, the weight of recent events making her feel exhausted, and yet his trailing off caused her to worry. She looked at him again, her eyes begging him to finish his thought.

Neil pulled away and leaned forward, folding his hands in thought. She deserved his honesty, but at the same time he feared that honesty would only make the situation worse. “I don't know how much longer I can handle feeling like I'm doing something wrong.”

Between the ring and these confessions, Scarlet found herself feeling very uneasy and confused. He said he loved her, and despite her initial reaction, Scarlet hadn't truly questioned the sincerity in his voice, but just now the tone and frustration in his voice sounded as if he were ready to walk out and never return. Suddenly she began to feel tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, while at the same time fighting a sudden wave of nausea. “But that's...that's simply ridiculous, Neil...”

He turned once again to look at her, his own expression uncertain. “Is it?”

Those two words caused her to freeze in place. He couldn't leave now, not yet. She swallowed hard, hoping to ease the tightness in her throat. “Yes. You don't think I'd like to you about something like that, do you?”

“Lately, I'm not so sure.”

Scarlet looked away, wiping the tears with the back of her hand. Their relationship was young, and yet he knew her well. She had indeed skewed the truth at times, but not only for her own sake, for his as well. She drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm so many raw emotions, and spoke softly. “Well then, what are you waiting for.”

“Nothing, and you're not going to bait me into this argument again. I'm here because I want to be.” Neil reclaimed his previous position next to her, pulling her into a secure embrace. “Now please do us both a favor, and stop feelin' sorry for yourself.”

Scarlet began sobbing uncontrollably into Neil's shirt. “I'm-”

Neil shook his head and closed his eyes, knowing very well what she was about to say. “No you're not, because there's nothing to be sorry for.”

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this really took forever to revise. At first I wasn't going to mess with it, but it just seemed so lacking. SO! What I had intended (at Bear's suggestion) was to detail Scarlet's visit with her therapist. However, it ended up feeling way too forced, so instead I went the more introspective route. Also, it ties in better with something Scarlet says later on in chapter eight. Now, about Neil's abrupt outing here – I realize that the manga says he was an assassin before joining Celestial Being (according to trusted sources anyway), but I just can't reconcile that he'd take just any job offered to him. With that in mind, I have written him in a very similar fashion as Burn Notice's Michael Westen. In other words, willing to help people in need even if it means taking extreme, illegal, and dangerous measures.

 

“ _The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary. Men alone are quite capable of every wickedness.” - Joseph Conrad_

Scarlet wasn't surprised when she woke up alone the next morning. Neil had told her he'd be leaving rather early, and that he'd try not to wake her, though she vaguely remembered feeling him softly kiss her cheek. She sat up slowly, still feeling fatigued from the previous day's events. Glancing at the empty space next to her she found a note on the pillow. After reading it, she neatly folded the little piece of paper, placing it in a small box with all the others, most of which she had found in various, and sometimes unexpected places.

The temptation to crawl back under the covers and sleep until he returned home was almost overwhelming; aches and pains threatening to overtake her entire body. Plucking the white scrunchie from her nightstand, Scarlet put her hair back in a loose ponytail as she did every morning, wincing at the ache in the back of her neck that accompanied the movements. If she could force herself out of bed, hopefully a hot shower would alleviate some of the discomfort. In the midst of this procrastination, her cell chimed signaling an incoming call. 

She pressed the little green telephone icon and answered. “Good morning. Checking up on me so soon?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn't sleep through your alarm again.”

She gave him a sleepy smile. “You're my lover Neil, not my babysitter. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it.”

“Don't think of it like that.” It was unsettling to think she might have continued to ignore her condition if he hadn't confronted her about it.

“Like what?”

“You should want this for yourself, not me.”

Scarlet looked away, once again fighting back tears that flowed much too often as of late, sometimes for no discernible reason. “I'm sorry about last night.”

He sighed. “You have every right to be upset with me.” 

She swallowed hard, willing the burning in her throat to cease. “No!” she paused quickly to steady her voice, “Please, don't blame yourself. I should have told you a long time ago. I... I should have been paying more attention. It's just that...it's been such a long time since this has happened. I suppose I thought I'd gotten past all this.”

“We'll talk when I get back, I promise. I'll find a way to make this up to you.”

“Neil...”

Reluctantly, he prepared to end the call as his destination was finally in sight. “I have to go. I'll be home soon, okay?”

She'd been vacillating between doubt and acceptance since he informed her of this sudden trip out of town, certain the stress brought on by these thoughts was the reason for these latest episodes. Judging by his apology he must have known this as well. “Please be careful.” 

He'd told her this was work related, so it seemed odd she'd make such a request. “It's just a routine job, Rose. Why would you-”

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, still feeling guilty for being unable to verbally reciprocate his confession from the previous night. It wasn't for lack of want, Simply forming the words in her mind instilled a very irrational and undefinable fear that prevented her from speaking. “Because I...”

“You should be getting ready. I'll call as soon as I'm finished here.” He hadn't meant to sound dismissive, but time was short and he wanted to get this over with quickly. 

Just as a muted tone signaled the disconnect, and the words 'call ended' flashed on the screen, Scarlet was finally able to finish her thought. “Because I love you too.”

* * *

For countless others, no matter the nature of their personal torment, confiding in someone that was uniquely qualified to provide them with clarity and insight – a safe place to confront their fears and insecurities – was an integral part of the coping process. Scarlet however, was never one to look forward to these visits. No matter what the doctor, or anyone in her support group said, these interactions always made her feel even more inadequate and damaged than days when she went about her normal routine. She didn't like to talk about the triggers or the nightmares, or the fact that it was difficult to trust anyone beyond that of a professional relationship. She was never one to fall victim to confusion or exhibit erratic behavior. She had never been suicidal, and keeping as much distance from the world at large as possible meant she was rarely fearful, and this in and of itself helped her maintain her independence. 

And yet somehow, she rarely felt anxiety or uncertainty when confiding in her lover. In a sense, it felt like she had known him her entire life. 

Still, Scarlet knew that Neil had burdens of his own, and though it wasn't difficult to see that they were in no way trivial or mundane, she had no idea just how heavy those burdens were. 

That was until now. 

She sat back in the driver's seat and closed her eyes processing the gravity of the situation. Not only had Doctor Sanders violated doctor-patient confidentiality and told Scarlet that she had counseled Neil years earlier, the older woman also told her why. Unfortunately, the sessions didn't last long, and Neil's aloof attitude made it almost impossible to help him move beyond the events of the day when his mother, father, and little Amy were so violently ripped from his life. For that reason, the good doctor suggested gently that Scarlet may have gotten herself into something she wasn't emotionally equipped to deal with.

Scarlet shook her head at the thought. Parting ways with him wasn't something she was even willing to consider, at least not right now. She didn't want to be with someone who only knew of what most considered normal. The revelation explained so much about Neil, and was disturbingly comforting. For the longest time she had wanted an explanation as to how he was able to handle her quirks with such finesse. Now she knew, and by way of obligation, was unable approach the subject with him openly. She would stay the course, and let him come to her when he was ready.

Scarlet blinked, pulling herself from her thoughts and started the car. There were quite a few hours before her shift started, and she decided she wanted to visit the place where half of Neil's family, as well as so many others, had lost their lives.

* * *

Three days had passed with no sign of the target or the woman he had allegedly abducted. After being missing for so many days it was safe to assume that if she _were_ found, it would be in a shallow grave. To make things worse, Neil had developed what was surely a fever combined with an increasingly painful headache and dry cough occasionally tasting of copper. Light headed and with his concentration beginning to waver, he leaned against the wall just opposite of the sill where the sniper rifle was perched. He sighed as quietly as his conditioning allowed, contemplating offering a silent prayer, although he was almost certain that it would fall on deaf ears. He was still young, but too many had lost their lives, wretched as they were, to a bullet fired from his gun, and there was no doubt many more would die by his actions in the future. 

Before he could form the words in his mind, there came a sound from across the courtyard. A quick look confirmed that these were the two people he'd come for. The kidnapper would be leaving in a body bag, that is, if anyone ever found him. The woman was as described, middle aged with an average body type and dark hair. At the moment, it looked to be matted and streaked with dried blood. A large shard of broken glass barely missed the woman's femoral artery as her stalker dragged her in through the window of the shop, letting her fall limply onto the cold concrete. 

The man was nervous, and very aware of his surroundings. A head shot shouldn't be a problem once the kidnapper had assured himself that no one was watching him. He stood over her, muttering something under his breath before giving her a hard kick to the ribs, having no idea that he was now in the cross-hairs of Neil's sniper rifle. 

The weather that day couldn't have been more perfect. It was just warm enough for a few flashes of lighting and rumbles of thunder. A weak storm on the horizon would be just enough to mask the sound of the bullet breaking the sound barrier. A bright flash of electricity temporarily lit up the now darkened sky. As the thunder began to roll overhead, Neil took the shot. The kidnapper was dead before he hit the ground, the velocity of the bullet forcing an exit wound through the back of his skull.

Crossing the courtyard to where the dead man lay, Neil pulled him into a storage room with a hole in the drywall just big enough to conceal the body, but not so noticeable that anyone would find it. He took his cell from his jacket pocket and knelt to pick up the spent round. Someone else would come to clean up the blood trail and take the woman home or to the hospital. The only thing left to do was make the journey back home, or rather, to his own apartment. He hoped that after a decent night's sleep the increasing symptoms would subside, and life could resume as it had just a few days earlier. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

“ _Love all. Trust a few. Do wrong to none.” - William Shakespeare_

* * *

 

Neil wasn't sure what time it was, or how long he'd been asleep. He sunk down under the covers leaving just enough space to keep an adequate amount of oxygen circulation before straining to look at the analog clock on the bedside table. According to the time, it seemed as if only a short time had passed, though he couldn't help feeling as if he'd been asleep for more than a few hours. Two things were evident as he struggled to form a complete thought, the first being that the fever, aches, and incessant headache weren't going to allow him to go back to sleep. The second was that, after studying the family picture that sat next to the clock, his mother was likely very upset with him for letting this happen, After a few moments of relative silence there came a third: someone was knocking at the front door. For a short time he ignored whoever it was, thinking that it was highly possible the noise was simply a hallucination, but when it didn't stop he quieted his breathing and listened, willing whoever it was to go away.

Scarlet was nothing if not tenacious. “I know you're in there Neil. Open the door.”

As soon as he heard Scarlet's voice, Neil was convinced this must be a fever dream. After all, he had never told her where he lived. Still, there was a possibility this was reality, and it wasn't in his best interest to ignore her, especially when her tone seemed to reflect a fair amount of agitation. Drawing on what little energy he had left, he sat up, putting on the first shirt that happened to be within reach. The short trek to the front door took longer than normal as dizziness forced him to stop every few steps in order to steady himself. He unlocked the door and opened it, surprised to find his slightly framed girlfriend standing there with two bags; one had clearly come from the local market and pharmacy, the other he recognized as her overnight bag.

“How did you... What are you doing here, Rose?”

She stood on her tiptoes and placed her palm flat against his forehead. “I called your boss. He said you called in sick two days ago, so I started to worry.”

It was tempting to scold her for this well intentioned invasion of privacy, but that thought quickly faded as he recalled those three words that didn't at all fit with his recollection of the past few days. Slightly dazed, he considered this as he watched Scarlet busy herself by putting on a surgical mask she had retrieved from one of the bags. “Two days ago? Are you sure?”

She responded simply by taking her phone out of her purse to show him the date. “Quite sure. Now, may I come in or are you content in your suffering?”

At that moment one thought came to mind despite the fog that threatened to invade his thought processes entirely. “You look silly with that thing on.”

Scarlet placed her hands on her hips, mild annoyance in her voice. “Be that as it may, I will be of no use to you if I am careless enough to allow myself to become ill as well.” She regarded him intently as he leaned against the door frame, obviously trying to conceal how truly miserable he was. “If you had thought to take similar precautions, we could be doing something much more desirable at the moment.”

He'd lost count at how many times her logic had defeated his own, though he made a mental note to add this one to the tally. Stepping aside, he let her in, closing the door as she set the bags down on the table in the living room. “Never let it be said she's timid with innuendo.”

“Never let it be said you're not a professional at turning a perfectly innocent statement into something off color.” She searched through the pharmacy bag briefly before taking out a small box containing a thermometer. “Come here and sit down.

He paused for a moment before doing as she asked. “I appreciate the concern Rose, but-” He stopped in mid thought as he met her gaze. She really was worried, not that he doubted her, but the look in her eyes simply reinforced what she had said earlier.

Scarlet fixed him with a pointed look. “You could have called.”

Neil sighed. “I didn't expect to be gone so long, and definitely had no plans on sleeping for two days straight.”

It had been less than one week, five and a half days to be exact, that they had been apart. This in and of itself was an excruciatingly long time, and the fact that Neil hadn't contacted her during this time made it that much worse. In truth, she had barely slept since he'd left, and when she did sleep it was nothing less than fitful. Still, she couldn't blame him for not wanting to burden her unnecessarily. “Well, what's done is done.” She offered up the thermometer again. “Now if you don't mind...”

With some objection Neil took the device and tucked it under his tongue. He didn't necessarily like the situation at hand, however Scarlet's need to mother him was comforting and more than welcome. One day he'd have to tell her about all the times he and Lyle would try getting out of going to school by heating thermometer censors under their bedside lamp's light bulb. He glanced to one side at the memory and sighed inwardly. Those were much happier times; times that neither of them would ever get back.

While she waited for the temperature to register on the tiny screen, Scarlet took a moment to observe her surroundings. “This is rather nice. I really expected something more in Early Caveman.”

Of course she would say something like that while he was unable to speak, so he responded by feigning a look of hurt and sadness. Judging by the sparkle in her eyes, there was a sweetly coy smile beneath that surgical mask.

For an instant, Scarlet snuggled up close to him, pulling the mask away just long enough to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Stop looking at me like a dejected puppy. I was only teasing.” Just then there came a steady, high pitched beeping from the thermometer. She took it from him, not at all pleased with what it had registered. “You're hopeless Neil Dylandy. Here...” Reaching into the bag once again, she took out a long, thin object securely wrapped in plastic and tissue paper, and began carefully removing the packaging. “Take this with you to the shower and hang it from the curtain rod. It won't work miracles, but it should help.”

The long, leaved branch's scent seemed vaguely familiar, though his normally sharp memory was dulled due to the fog that was becoming increasingly unwelcome. As it was, he was amazed that he was capable of having a coherent conversation. “A tree branch...?”

“It's Eucalyptus. The heated steam from the shower will activate the oil in the leaves and will hopefully ease your cough.”

He blinked and shook his head slightly, silently chiding himself for needing an explanation. Upon complete inspection of the remaining items she had brought with her, it was obvious she had gone so far as to purchase a few of the more synthetic cold remedies. “You shouldn't have gone to all this trouble.”

“You're absolutely right, I shouldn't have. Now go and make use of my efforts while I see about disinfecting your living space.”

He stood, taking the leafy branch. “Alright, you win.” Half way across the room he stopped and cast a glance over his shoulder. “You're really somethin' else, you know that?”

Scarlet sighed in frustration as Neil disappeared down the hall. She was concerned that he had returned in such a state, and even more upset with herself for feeling as if he had intentionally abandoned her for so many days. Her rational mind knew it wasn't purposeful, but her emotions screamed otherwise. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep, even breath. All that was over now, and she had other things to concern herself with.

* * *

He did as he was told, hanging the branch in the shower, letting it soothe his very irritated respiratory system. After what he hoped she would consider an adequate amount of time, he turned off the water, drying off and dressing quickly as the temperature contrast between the shower and the rest of the room was quite dramatic. An initial, passive thought entered his mind just minutes earlier. At the time he didn't think much of it until further examination of the towel; even though it was now wet, it had been warm when he'd first used it. The thought that she bothered to attend to such details was just one of the reasons he'd fallen in love with her. Musing over these things he took a few minutes to make himself presentable, hastening the process when he heard the very unmistakable sound of glass breaking.

Padding to the kitchen, Neil found Scarlet on her knees, a few large shards of broken glass in front of her, one of them tipped with her blood. He took her hand and applied pressure to the wound. “You should be more careful.”

She nodded, her tone apologetic. “My hands were wet. It slipped.”

“The glass can be replaced. _You_ can't be.” He reached up on the counter tearing two sheets of paper towels from the roll. “Keep holding it. I'll get a bandage.”

“It looks worse than it is. Please don't...” She was stopped in mid sentence by the look he gave her; the one that, without a word said, _'Don't question me.'_

A moment later he returned and began wrapping the gauze around her hand, the palm being the epicenter of the wound. “There. How's that?”

Tentatively, she folded her fingers over the top of the bandage. “It's a bit tight.”

Luckily, the glass had not shattered, though the edges of each piece were decidedly jagged. He disposed of the remaining pieces of glass, noting her protest and dismissing it at the same time. “If it's not tight it'll start bleeding again. You know that.”

She stood and stepped over to the stove, checking on a sauce pan half filled with just boiling water. It wasn't as if she resented his willingness to take care of her, far from it in fact. At the same time however, it somehow made her feel dependent, sometimes to the point of subservience. “You should be in bed.”

He pulled her away from her task once she had lowered the heat and added a package of instant soup to the water. Removing the surgical mask entirely, he pulled her close and kissed her. “And you should be with me.”

“Neil, there's a reason I...”

“It's not contagious, Rose. The only purpose that thing serves is to make me crazy.” In truth, he wasn't one hundred percent certain if that were true, but he did know there were specific dangers in spending extended amounts of time in dusty, decaying buildings, none of which she needed to protect herself against.

Scarlet raised an eyebrow at this. “Oh? And where do you keep your medical degree? I don't believe I've seen it.”

“Just trust me, okay?”

She turned her attention back to the counter, emptying the contents of the cutting board into the now simmering soup. “All right, but I get permission to blame you if I should miss work because of you.”

“I wouldn't have it any other way.” Curious, he looked to see what she had just added, becoming slightly worried after doing so. “That's for you, right?”

“It is not.” Smiling, albeit not so innocently, she tilted her head. “Are you honestly so afraid of a few harmless pieces of chilli pepper?”

“The words 'harmless' and 'chilli' should never be used in the same sentence.”

She laughed softly while carefully pouring some of the soup into a coffee cup. “Here you go. Tough guy.”

He sighed, and sat down at a small kitchen table. Absently, he thought back to when he and Lyle were just boys, each giving the family dog their vegetables when their parents weren't looking. They had made a point to let Amy know early on in her young life that should she divulge their little secret, the heads of her favorite dolls would become chew toys for that same family dog. The memory faded back to reality as Scarlet set a plate on the table and sat down across from him. Timidly, he took a small sip from the cup while studying her, noting that the peppers had only added a mild spice. “How've you been these past few days?”

“Better I suppose.”

It would have been a satisfactory answer if her expression hadn't become pensive when asked. “That's not very convincing.”

She turned her attention to her sandwich, disassembling and then reassembling it for no apparent reason. “It's true. She was going to give me a prescription for an antidepressant, but suggested I try a few other alternatives first.”

“Is that all?”

“Of course. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Because I know when something's bothering you. That's not the whole truth, is it?”

She clasped her hands together tightly, closing her eyes and drawing in a deep breath. “She also suggested you and I not see each other anymore.”

A long silence followed before he quietly posed the obvious question. “And what did you say?”

She looked at him, uncertainty and slight confusion crossing her features. “I told her that it was out of the question. You expected my response to be to the contrary?”

“No, but I have been thinking...it's okay if you ever want to change your mind. I know you're not happy. Not really.”

She fixed him with a very severe look. “Are you finished?”

He pushed away the nearly empty cup. “Yeah, it's cold now so...”

“I mean with your delusion.” She stood, taking the cup and placing it in the sink. “That's just it, Neil. I _am_ happy.” She paused briefly while cleaning their dishes. “I know I'm defiant and stubborn, even overbearing at times, but that does not mean my heart is unwilling to be your captive.”

Despite the headache and fever that had quickly begun to reassert their dominance, he smiled weakly at her choice of words. Often times he had wondered if she was a member of King Arthur's court who had somehow been forced to live in the wrong time period. “You wanna know what I think?”

She glanced quickly over her shoulder, a thousand different versions of his answer unraveling in her mind. “Whatever it is, I'm certain it will border on irrational considering you’ve become feverish once again. Go back to bed. I'll be in shortly.”

He pushed the chair away from the table and stood, kissing her lightly before leaving the room. “I think you're perfect.”

She wanted to smile at his words. She wanted to think that some part of her was indeed still perfect, that she had managed to maintain some form of innocence that would allow these words to ring true, but the fact was any hope of this had been lost years ago.

* * *

After finishing the dishes and tidying the general area of the living room-kitchen, Scarlet realized that she had neglected to bring in one very important item. She went to the living room, fishing her car keys from her purse. “I'll be right back!”

The distance from the building to her parking space was a short one, so much in fact she didn't bother putting on her coat. Once outside however, she wondered idly if she should have as the wind began immediately stinging her exposed skin. She opened the passenger side door and retrieved a neatly folded blanket. Just as she closed and locked the car, a voice startled her. Granted she hadn't taken particular notice of her surroundings, but she didn't recall anyone else out at the time either.

”What's a pretty lady like you doin' out here without a coat on?”

Scarlet looked up to find a handsome, tall, olive skinned man with brown eyes and dark hair, sporting a very expensive looking pin-striped suit and trench coat. “I'm visiting.”

The man raised an eyebrow at her very simple answer. “I figured that much. I would've noticed right away if you were a tenant.” He paused, gesturing in slight embarrassment before offering her his hand which she did not accept. “Mamma would be disappointed in me for my lack of manners. Name's Valentino. Valentino Rossi. And you are?”

“Scarlet Dunham. I'd say it's a pleasure, but it's really very cold and I'd like to go inside if you don't mind.” She couldn't help but notice how odd the situation had suddenly become. He was undoubtedly Italian, and though she didn't like stereotypes, this man seemed extremely out of place.

“Well, I live here so I'll walk with you. Besides, you never know what kind of creep might be just around the next corner.”

She blinked, silently contemplating the potential irony of his words. “That's really not necessary, Mr. Rossi.”

“Please, my friends call me Valentino!”

“I'd rather not.”

In a very gentlemanly fashion, he gestured for her to lead the way. “After you, Bella. So, you visiting family?”

“No.”

“Friends?”

“No.”

Valentino raised a curious eyebrow, seeming to put emphasis on the next query. “Boyfriend?” He quickened his pace slightly, reaching the door that lead to the interior of the apartment building and holding it open for her.

“Thank you, and yes. Not that it's any of your business.” The elevator was in sight now, and she hoped the forced conversation would end there, but that hope faded as he followed her in. She pressed the button corresponding to the second floor, trying to keep her nerves steady. Obviously there were many friendly people out there in the world at large, but the Italian was a little _too_ friendly for her taste.

“Your nervousness wounds me deeply, Miss Dunham.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“You act like I'm Jack the Ripper or something.” Valentino shrugged. “His victims were working girls that made their living in dark alleyways you know. I don't think he ever picked any of them up in an elevator.”

“I am fully aware of the details surrounding one of history's most notorious serial killers. You sound like you admire him.”

Scarlet's judgmental, nearly condescending tone was not lost on him. “Only because he was a pro at getting away with murder. A psychotic genius really.” He paused for a moment to look her over more carefully. “Say...”

She sighed, exasperated. “Yes?”

“You seem like a high class babe. How would you like to come work for me? You'd make a hell of a lot more scratch than what they pay you at that dinky little restaurant.” He continued, his demeanor casual and sounding very proud of himself. “I even give my girls a health plan and free gym memberships. So, how 'bout it?” When the doors opened, Valentino held the button so they would stay that way.

Silently she breathed a sigh of relief after stepping into the hallway, idly wondering exactly how he knew where she worked, but unwilling to stay any longer. “I am no more a prostitute than you are a gentleman.”

“My girls and I prefer the term 'escort.'

“Either way, the answer is no. Good evening Mr. Rossi.”

Rossi watched her for a moment before letting the elevator doors close and took out his phone, pressing a number corresponding to someone he had on speed dial. “It's me.” He paused briefly listening to the voice on the other end. “Yeah, but I still need to make sure we cover all our bases. We can't afford any screw ups. You just sit tight and wait for my call.” With that Valentino snapped the phone shut and exited to the hallway leading to his own apartment.

* * *

Once inside the apartment, Scarlet locked the door, closing her eyes and leaning against it to regain her wits. Frankly the idea the Italian would even think of offering employment in such a field was insulting, though somehow not surprising either. One thing she was certain of, if Neil had been there things could have ended very badly. Her thoughts were broken when she heard him coughing. Shaking the recent events from her mind, she switched off the light and took the short walk to the bedroom.

Neil sat up when she walked into the room. “So what does it really mean when you say you'll 'be right back'?”

Scarlet smiled, unfolding the blanket and plugging it in. “Did you miss me?”

“Always. Now, how about that translation.”

“I couldn't remember where I had put the cord.” She leaned over and kissed him. “I'm going to change.”

“If you're not back in ten minutes I'm coming to look for you.”

In response, she picked up a spare pillow and tossed it at him. A short time later she emerged from the next room, her hair taken out of the previously tightly pinned French Twist, and wearing a flattering pink and white white sleep set. “So what do you think?”

“I thought you didn't like it.”

She padded over to the bed, pulling back the covers and taking her place beside him. “I said I don't feel comfortable wearing lingerie, not that I didn't like it. There's a big difference.”

He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “You look amazing.”

“I suppose I should make time and go thank the saleswoman for assisting you. Heaven knows what you would have picked left to your own devices.”

“Well, next time you get to do your own shopping. Some people get strange ideas when a guy walks into a store like that by himself.”

She looked at him with one of the most mischievous expressions he'd seen so far. “Are you worried people would think you have a fetish for...” Before she could finish, Scarlet found herself lying on her back, looking up into his blue-green eyes.

“Don't even finish that sentence.” For a time they shared a long, gentle, and yet passionate kiss despite the heaviness and nagging pain that persisted in his chest.

Once released, she snuggled up beside him. “You should try and rest.”

He glanced over that the picture on the bedside table and then back at her. “I thought you would have asked by now.”

“I've waited this long. A few more hours isn't going to make that much of a difference. Now go to sleep.”

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

“ _There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They are messengers of overwhelming grief, and of unspeakable love.” -Washington Irving_

* * *

The white-gray light of another cold, cloudy morning seeped through the small gap between the dark brown curtains as Scarlet stirred under warm blankets. Reluctantly she opened her eyes, blinking a few times to clear her vision. Temporarily disoriented, she took in her surroundings having to remind herself where she was. Slowly she sat up, her entire body objecting fiercely to the unwanted movement. Struggling to ignore this, she slipped out of bed, padded to the bathroom, and then to the kitchen where she found Neil in the midst of making breakfast. “You're cooking...”

Distracted by her voice, Neil set a few items he'd taken from the refrigerator on the counter, before taking her hand and kissing her lightly. “Have I ever told you how cute you are when you're still half asleep?” 

Acknowledging the question and covering a yawn, Scarlet smiled weakly. “Feeling better I see.” 

Her seemingly fragile state gave him immediate cause for concern. “You look tired. I really wish you would have gotten some sleep instead of checking up on me every hour on the hour.”

Perching sideways on the edge of a kitchen chair, Scarlet bowed her head and ran her fingers gingerly through her bangs. “I'm fine, just...a bit nauseous and...” Pausing, she let out a shaky, labored breath and closed her eyes, dizziness and a searing headache temporarily interrupting her cognitive abilities. “...my head hurts.”

His first inclination was to think her cautionary discretion from the previous evening had been warranted after all. “Look at me.”

She tilted her head back, blinking slowly as he placed his hand against her forehead in much the same way she had done for him. “If I could have some tea and a piece of toast I'll be fine.”

“You don't really think I believe that do you?” Her skin was ice cold and much more pale than normal. 

“I don't suppose there's any point in trying to convince you further, is there?”

“No. Now come on, back to bed.” Gently he took her hand guiding her to her feet and wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Really, I'll be alright.”

“Would you rather be carried?”

“No I'd rather you-” Scarlet's protest was cut short as she felt her feet leave the floor. The distance from the kitchen to the bedroom was short, and she found herself back in bed once again. Obviously, defying her much stronger and taller lover would be senseless. “You're making too much out of this.”

He kissed her forehead and pulled the blankets around her making sure she was adequately covered. “I'll get you something to eat. Stay here and rest.”

“And if I don't?”

“Then I'll just have to tie you down.”

She tilted her head to one side and smiled elfishly. “Is that a promise?”

Sometimes it was easy to forget she had experienced such a traumatic upbringing. “I still don't understand how you can say things like that.” 

“To be honest I don't quite understand it either, although I do believe I've formed a suitable hypothesis.”

“Which is?”

“I trust you.” 

“I'm glad.” He couldn't take away the nightmares, or the trauma she had suffered in her past, and there were times when he wondered how truthful she had been with him. Hearing her say these words with such conviction, however, gave him no reason to believe otherwise. With that, Neil settled down next to her, initiating a very soft, sweet kiss laced with a veiled hint of passion. He coaxed her to lie down, and after a moment he pulled away reluctantly, knowing that if he didn't he would surely become lost in her scent and the taste of her lips.

Nearly breathless, Scarlet looked up at him, her temperature having risen causing her skin to become flush with color. “I love you.”

Her words were simple, and at the same time profound, and because of that he knew how much courage she must have summoned to finally say it. “I love you too, Rose.” 

[xy]

Once Neil had left the room, Scarlet buried herself under the blankets, shielding her light sensitive eyes from further discomfort. No sooner had she drifted off to sleep, than a commotion in the kitchen woke her, followed immediately by an agitated curse.

“Bloody hell that's hot!”

Lamenting at the sound-generated electric shock that reignited her previously fading headache, Scarlet squeezed her eyes closed and rubbed her temples, _'Good Heavens, Neil. It's only breakfast, not the recreation of the Sistine Chapel ceiling'._ She laid still for a moment before getting up and making her way to the kitchen to find Neil applying ice to a very obvious burn. “It's not like you to be so careless. What happened?”

“I must have been preoccupied and forgot the heat was still on.” He gestured to the pan handle that was directly over the offending heat source. 

She leaned against the counter and studied the burn more closely. “What could have been so distracting that you'd let his happen?”

“You for starters.” With his free hand he tugged at the top button of her sleep shirt causing it to unfasten with very little effort. “And that doesn't help much either.” 

She blushed, making sure to re-secure the disobedient fastener, and change the subject taking note of his over all competency in the kitchen. “You' must have had a very skilled teacher.”

“Mom; she was one of the best. She decided I needed a few lessons after I got curious about what she was doing one day and pulled a sauce pan of boiling water off the stove.” He rolled up his sleeve and pointed to a very faint scar.

She inspected it, wondering why she hadn't noticed sooner. “You must have been very young.” 

He nodded. “About six years old I think.”

Scarlet briefly pondered the acquisition of her own skills. “I suppose I would have learned from Mother if she hadn't passed away.” She smiled wistfully. “You can be thankful I didn't.”

Neil placed the bag of ice in the sink, and tended to the combination coffee-tea maker. “Why's that?”

“Nearly everything she made was either burned, over seasoned, under seasoned, or a combination thereof. I found that out when trying to recreate several different dishes from when I was a child. Needless to say none of them remained in my repertoire.”

“It must have been difficult for her; going from gilded cage to peasant life in such a short time.” Before she had a chance to reply, he raised a hand halting her response. “I know what you're thinking That wasn't meant to sound sarcastic.” He portioned out some of the breakfast items for himself and set them aside before pouring her tea and arranging two pieces of toasted bread next to her tea cup. Determined to salvage the morning, and at least some of the original plan, he motioned her to follow him back to the bedroom.

Once in the bedroom, Scarlet kissed his cheek before happily climbing back into bed, taking the cup and saucer when he handed it to her. “Thank you. You're very sweet.”

A hint of color crossed his features as he came to rest beside her. “Let's keep that between you and me, okay?” 

[xy

Several minutes later, Scarlet's curiosity piqued upon realization of his change in mood and fixed observation. “Penny for your thoughts.”

Neil shook his head trying to conceal the troublesome notion that had been wearing on his mind for some time. “It's nothing.”

“Honestly Neil, I know you better than that. Come now, out with it.” There was a long pause as she nibbled on a piece of the toasted bread waiting for him to answer. 

“You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?”

“That's a rather vague question, don't you think? Maybe you could enlighten me as to your definition of _'wrong'.'_ ”

“You don't really seem to be sick.”

“That's because I'm not.” 

Having become quickly acclimated to the nuances of female physiology long ago, his former assumption had given way to the potential of something much more complicated and permanent. “Does that mean-”

She held up a hand silencing him with her index finger. “It does not, and yes, of course I would. It's just that my symptoms are a little more severe this month, nothing more.” 

Relief washed over him but was quickly replaced by quiet caution. “Is that all... Why didn't you just say so?”

She set her dishes down on the bedside table. “I think a better question would be why you would come to such a conclusion knowing we've taken more than adequate precautions to avoid having children.” 

For an instant he considered whether or not to put his response into words, but ultimately decided she deserved the honesty. “Accidents happen. I wouldn't expect you to take care of it.”

She regarded him with a troubled expression. “I'm quite surprised you'd refer to our child as an 'accident'. '

”You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

She repositioned her pillow and laid down. “Stop fretting, my dearest. Que sera sera, yes?”

Somehow finding the remainder of breakfast uninteresting, he settled down beside her, and slipped a hand under her shirt flattening his palm against her midriff. “I really don't deserve you.”

She sighed, inwardly disquieted at his habit of putting her on a pedestal _._

[xy]

A long silence followed as Neil sought out the right words to begin the long awaited answer to Scarlet's question, ultimately settling on a truth he knew to be absolute. “They would've liked you.” 

Noting the obvious change in subject Scarlet turned slightly to meet his gaze, but said nothing, instead waiting patiently for Neil to continue. 

After a few more silent moments, he explained everything, including his brother's one sided estrangement and how it became even more severe after losing Amy and their parents to the homicide bombing. Frustrated, he sat up running his fingers through his bangs. “It wasn't supposed to be like this. _None of it._ ” He let out a ragged sigh, unconsciously leaning in as she reached up and wiped away the tears that he had been fighting so hard to restrain. “Things were getting better. Lyle...after he came home from boarding school we were actually starting to get along...but not long after the attack he just...left. The fucking idiot just left like it didn't mean anything.” He glanced at her as she sat up next to him, and then looked away.

Scarlet wiped away her own tears, and took Neil's hand. “I've been there...to the memorial, and...” She trailed off, deciding it better that he didn't know about her doctor's breach of privacy. 

Neil paused at the uncertainty in her voice, but decided it was only that, uncertainty. After all, it wasn't as if the world at large had no knowledge of what had happened that day. “I saw him just before it happened, the kid. He couldn't have been more than ten years old, probably younger. The next thing I knew I was surrounded by body parts and blood...bone fragments and twisted metal....” He paused again and pulled her close, holding onto her as if she were a life preserver in a storm ravaged sea. “What kind of sick bastard does something like that; sends a little kid to murder innocent people?”

“I wish I could answer that for you.”

“You know, I can deal with it, all of it, even Lyle's habit of calling me an overachieving prick, but lately I've realized something. It's bad enough they took away my family, but they also took away my future with you before we even met.” Pensive and frustrated, he paused. “Every day I wonder what the next thing will be; how a dead little boy and someone's twisted agenda can continue taking away the most important people in my life.”

For a moment she said nothing, wondering why he chose such cryptic words, and then thinking back to the many times she had asked herself a similar question. Helpless to answer once again, she moved on to something much less abstract. “Tell me, what does your brother have to say for himself now?”

Finally able to regain his equanimity, Neil sighed. “We haven't spoken in years. I don't even know if he's been back to town since then.”

Scarlet's tone became bitter and heavy with contempt. “How very selfish of him. If we _ever_ have the unfortunate occasion to meet, I will not hesitate to let him know what I think of him.”

He knew firsthand how serious her intentions could be, but found the mental image of her confronting his twin amusing nonetheless. “Then I'd say he'll need all the luck this place has to offer.”

She laughed softly, her eyes sparkling in the still muted morning light. “That's a very clichéd stereotype.” 

“I know.” He leaned in for a kiss, finding the loose button from earlier in the morning and unfastening it. “I also know I missed you, and that I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

She stayed his hand and pulled away just slightly. “I understand, but I do have a request.”

“Anything.”

“I'd like to pay my respects.”

Her appeal was completely unexpected. “Almost anything. Listen, don't take this the wrong way, but that's not something I want you to feel obligated to do.”

Unwilling to let him see her tears yet again, she turned away. “I won't delude myself into thinking we have a future together. And I won't lie and tell you I've fully accepted that either, but for better or worse you are a part of me, and that means the people that are important to you are equally important to me.”

Knowing she had much more on her mind than what she was willing to tell him, Neil wrapped his arms around her. “Later this afternoon, okay?” He didn't like to talk about what the incident had done to him and his twin, but there wasn't much point in trying to avoid the subject either. In fact, confiding in Scarlet had lifted a great deal of weight from his mind. However, the less she knew about him in the present, the better.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scarlet's line of “Que sera sera” is technically an incorrect translation, and yes she knows that. It's from Hitchcock's 'The Man Who Knew Too Much.' (1956) as well as the theme to The Doris Day Show.
> 
> Until next time...


	10. Chapter 10

 

“ _All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered, the point is to discover them.” - Galileo Galilei_

* * *

Across the otherwise dimly lit room, the television flickered with each changing scene. Scarlet leaned contentedly against Neil who had one arm wrapped securely around her with his free hand resting on the middle of her thigh. She had been uncharacteristically captivated by a marathon of a television show featuring home videos people had taken of pets, livestock or even wild animals doing strange, cute, or just random camera worthy things. Evenings like this were something of a rarity, and caused his thoughts to drift into the existential, musing at how odd it seemed that people could still enjoy the small things that made life worth living. Despite the very real possibility that chaos and violence could all but shatter their lives in a matter of seconds, people all over the world found time to take pictures and videos of their family, friends, and pets among a myriad of other activities. Sometimes he felt guilty for not sharing her sense of delighted whimsy.

Indeed the red-head was happily entertained by the television program, though not in the least bit oblivious to her companion's tendency to daydream, and this was no exception. Under the blanket, she took his hand and squeezed it gently, smiling as he in turn caressed the back of her hand with his fingertips. Just then she looked away and leaned forward as an advertisement had caught her interest. “Will wonders never cease...”

Neil shifted under the blanket and leaned up as well, the commercial having suddenly answered a question that he'd been concerned with for more than a few days. “I bet that's one hell of a security detail.”

“I'd imagine so. It's not every day the Smithsonian takes their collection of original Stradivarius violins on a world tour.” She settled back into his arms as he leaned back against the sofa once again.

He looked at her with a questioning expression. “Would you like to go?”

Scarlet blinked in momentary surprise before answering in a very definitive tone. “No.”

Neil merely shook his head at the answer. “Then I guess you were right.”

“About what?” Even now, his habit of saying things that didn't immediately fit the conversation was still something she considered odd.

“I must be psychic, because I knew you'd say that.”

Scarlet smiled coyly. “Must I remind you that I was under the influence of more than one form of intoxication that night?”

“That was obvious the second you invited me in.”

“I wasn't referencing the alcohol so much as the company.”

Neil smiled, still amazed at how a few simple words from her could cause him to blush. “Have I ever told you how good you are at boosting a guy's ego?”

She nodded. “Yes, among other, very similar sentiments.” After a brief pause, she sighed, her expression becoming serious and subdued. “I know what you're thinking, and I won't have you spending a small fortune on such a thing.”

“So would I be right in assuming you're trying to pretend your birthday isn't comin' up?” He intertwined his fingers with hers. “I've been trying to think of something to get you, but so far nothing's seemed good enough; not right at all.”

“My one and only desire is to spend that day, and possibly more importantly, that night...” she kissed him teasingly before continuing, “...with you.” Shifting once again, she snuggled up next to him. “I can only imagine how uncomfortable you'd be in a tuxedo anyway. Please promise me you won't give this a second thought.”

“I'd arrange for us to vacation on the Moon if it'd make you happy, but since you asked, okay, I promise.”

Scarlet sighed contentedly and closed her eyes. “I have no use for jewelry, tickets to the symphony, or even a vacation on the Moon. As if such a thing were possible.” She lifted her head, a curious realization crossing her features. “Sometimes I can't help but wonder if in a former life you were a character in one of those silly romance novels.”

Neil shifted positions and fixed her with a very disarming, and playful grin. “You mean like the one under your pillow?”

Her voice became soft with a measured amount of seductiveness. “Some people would consider that an invasion of privacy.” She kissed him again, this time with much more intent, slipping a hand under his shirt and teasing his skin with neatly manicured fingernails.

He shivered, and after a moment broke the kiss; pushing her hair aside, he nuzzled her neck after helping her out of her sweater and tank top. “I make it my business to know these things.” With gentle force he persuaded her to lie down, straddling her hips just so.

Reaching up, she tangled her slender fingers through his hair, arching her back just slightly allowing him to access the clasp on her bra, whimpering softly as he teased her pale skin with feathery kisses. She exhaled, whispering airily. “Neil...”

No sooner had he taken off his shirt and tossed it on the floor, a muted ringing threatened to put an abrupt end to their foreplay. Inwardly he sighed, objecting fiercely to the troublesome interruption. “Let it ring.”

Reluctantly and with an air of apology, Scarlet turned her attention in the direction of the ringing, pulling away just enough to look at the caller ID. “I really should answer it.” She reached over and took the device from it's place on the coffee table and pressed the 'answer' key while making sure the video feed was turned off. “What is it, Candice? You know you're only supposed to call me in an emergency.” She listened to her co-worker talk while placing her hand over the speaker. Neil was determined to continue teasing her, phone call or not. Turning slightly, she gave him a non committal glare, whispering as softly as possible. “Stop it.”

“Why? She already has an unhealthy interest in our relationship, so why not indulge her a little? This way, everybody wins.”

She flattened her palm against his chest and pressed lightly. “Why must you be petulant?”

Distressed by the interruption, he sat up and sighed heavily, watching her as she finished the brief conversation and put her sweater and tank top back on. Once she ended the call, he asked the obvious question, the tone in his voice conveying more irritation than intended. “So what does she want this time?”

“She's been in an accident and needs someone to take her home.”

Neil sighed, silently scolding himself for exhibiting such annoyance with the younger girl. “Is she okay?”

Scarlet nodded and began looking for her keys. “Just a bit shaken.”

He put his shirt on and stood from his place on the sofa. “I'll come with you.”

She closed the distance between them and took his hand. “That's not necessary. I'm confident you can find something to entertain yourself until I return.”

“I could, but it wouldn't nearly as much fun without you.” He kissed her again before continuing. “Since I don't seem to have a choice, this would be a great time for a distraction.”

* * *

Nick Giovanni had always dreamed of becoming a heavy hitter in the Italian-American Mafia. Determined to prove himself, the ambitious twenty year old was constantly trying to find a way to get himself noticed, and it wasn't long before he seemed to have found the perfect opportunity, taking it upon himself to become familiar with the people surrounding this fortuitous information. For weeks he investigated them, eventually becoming satisfied that he had gathered the necessary facts to devise a simple plan that would surely win the attention of Valentino Rossi.

And so there he was, one of two parties that had been involved in what could have been a serious car accident, exchanging insurance information with a young brunette. After a few moments, the girl returned to her car and made a call. While she talked, Nick stood leaning against his own vehicle, hoping to wrap up his own conversation before the police arrived. “Hey Sonny, it's me. I'm about to make that acquisition you and the Boss have been working on, but I need to know somethin' first.”

Sonny Di Angelo, also known as “ _Marshmallow Man”_ because of his apparent addiction to the sugary confection, listened to the voice on the other end of the line, his brow knitting together as he tried to figure out exactly who he was talking to. “Who the fuck is this?”

Nick was taken aback at the dismissal. “What do ya mean 'who the fuck is this'? It's me, Nicky! We met at Mario's Pizza last month, remember?”

“You got a last name mister sociable?”

“Giovanni, Nick Giovanni.”

“Giovanni... Giovanni... You're that small time hood that thinks he's got enough balls to play with the big boys, right?”

“Yeah! Yeah that's right!” Nick frowned as soon as soon as he realized the sarcasm in Sonny's voice. “Hey...”

“Shouldn't you be knockin' off convenience stores back in Jersey?”

“A little bird told me about your boy Marconi turninn' snitch, and that same little bird told me that Rossi has a plan to make sure he doesn't squeal, so I thought I'd help out. I just need to know what to do with this little brunette before the cops get here. I wanna be able to grab the red-headed dame as soon as she gets here.”

Sonny's eyes widened upon hearing this. “Jesus fucking Christ! You're gonna ruin everything!” He took a deep breath before asking where the younger, less experienced man was. “I'm comin' to pick you up. In the meantime, make sure you keep your goddamn mouth shut, capisce?”

“Y-yeah, I got it.” He was scarcely able to utter the short four words before the line went dead.

Sonny retrieved a handful of miniature, pastel colored marshmallows from a bag, popped them into his mouth and headed for his car where he took out his phone and pressed a number on speed dial. “We got a problem.”

* * *

A short time later Scarlet and Neil arrived at the scene of the accident. The streets were slick, and it was easy to see where Candice's car had skidded off the side of the road. Before either exited the car, it was apparent the teen was arguing with the other victim as her voice was higher in pitch than normal. Scarlet sighed and shook her head. “Stubborn child.”

Neil stepped out of the passenger side of the car followed almost immediately by his companion. “Is she always such a brat?”

“Only when she doesn't get what she wants.” As she and Neil walked the short distance the conversation became clear.

The young girl's demeanor was quickly becoming that of a small child that had been denied her favorite toy. “What?! What do you mean this is my fault?! You're the one that ran the light!”

The casually dressed young man with short blonde hair and cobalt blue eyes countered in a very calm and accusing manner. “I didn't run the light. You'd know that if you didn't have a cell phone glued to your head.” He paused, and lit up a cigarette. “Damn women drivers. Doesn't matter how young or old you're all a danger to society.”

Candice's eyes narrowed. “You know, you're a real hottie. Too bad you're also an ass-”

“Candice!” Scarlet grabbed her co-worker by the wrist and dragged her a short distance away. “Have you given your statement to the officer?”

The younger girl rolled her eyes and huffed in a very melodramatic fashion. “Yes.”

“Then go get in the car.”

The brunette complied, but not before having the last word on the matter. “He started it.”

Scarlet watched Candice briefly before returning to where the other men stood. “I'm terribly sorry for her behavior. I hope she didn't cause too much trouble.”

Nick took a drag from his cigarette and glanced quickly between the petite woman and her taller companion. “You two related to her?”

Scarlet shook her head. “No, she and I work together. I suspect she only called me in hopes of avoiding a confrontation with her mother, temporary though it may be.”

The blonde shrugged. “Then forget about it. No big deal.”

Scarlet smiled, nodded politely and then looked to her lover. “Shall we go?”

Neil said nothing, instead letting the red-head lead. He turned slightly and watched as the blonde got into a car with darkly tinted windows. _'Something's not right here.'_ Taking one last look at the scene, he dismissed the suspicion and walked back to Scarlet's car. _'Probably just my imagination.'_

* * *

Meanwhile, the same car that had picked Nick up from the accident scene pulled into a parking space just in front of a large warehouse located on the outskirts of the city. Sonny turned off the engine, pulled a small pistol from the inside of his jacket and pointed it at his blonde haired, blue eyed passenger. “Get out.”

Inside, Valentino Rossi sat at a small table, the area surrounding it illuminated by a single light bulb. He had been passing the time by looking over the earnings from a few of his many semi-legal business ventures. As the large, heavy doors began to open, he filed the small stack of papers into a leather briefcase, and regarded the two men in a stern, almost menacing fashion. “About time you got here.” Focusing his attention on Nick, Valentino stood and motioned to the extra chair opposite his own. “Please, have a seat.”

On his home turf Nick was as tough as nails, but the current situation was causing him to feel very uneasy, if not fearful. Still, he steadied his nerves as best he could. “If it's all the same to you I think I'll-” Before Nick could finish, Sonny promptly forced the younger man into the chair.

Valentino rounded the corner of the table and stood over the blonde. “Do you have any idea how inconvenient this is for me?” His voice was low and steady, his expression fixed and austere. He turned away from the youngster and spoke briefly to Sonny. “It seems cold in here. Does it feel cold to you?”

Sonny reached into his pocket and retrieved his bag of marshmallows. “I don't mean no disrespect Boss, but this ain't exactly the Ritz you know. I don't think any of the things in those boxes really cares about the temperature. Besides, it won't be long before we're back in the warm sun of the Tuscan countryside.”

“Not soon enough if you ask me. If I have to spend much more time in this rain trap I'm gonna start growin' gills” Valentino glanced at the plastic bag in Sonny's hand and snatched it away. “What are you, the Easter Bunny?” Rossi sighed, shook his head, and then regarded his associate. “Of all the ways to make money in this business – gun running, narcotics, prostitution – you go into the candy racket.”

Sonny shrugged. “Can I help it if I have a sweet tooth? Figured I might as well make the most out of it.”

Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, Valentino fixed Nick with a scrutinizing stare. “You know what your problem is, kid? You got no patience. No one ever got anywhere in our line of work by sticking their neck out the way you have.” He pushed his hands into his pockets and leaned casually against the table. “As a matter of fact, you're lucky I'm such a nice guy. I don't believe in unnecessary violence like a lot of the others. You done something like this on anyone else's watch, they wouldn't think twice about cutting said neck-” he made a slicing motion, “clean off.” Valentino paused, and then continued. “Unfortunately, I cannot allow such insubordination to go overlooked. If you really want to make a name for yourself, the business model of a piss-ant loan shark ain't gonna cut it.” He turned and leaned close to the younger man. “Like I said, you gotta learn some patience, some finesse – how to be seen without getting noticed by the wrong people.” Val took in a breath. “Like the fucking Feds!”

Nick's eyes went wide. This wasn't going at all as he'd planned. “B-but she's not...I mean...I just thought...”

Valentino raised his index finger. “And therein lies the problem, you thought. _**You thought**_ without my permission.”

Nick shook his head nervously. “It won't happen again, I swear...”

Valentino bowed his head for an instant and flattened his palms against the tabletop. After a moment, he straightened and glanced at Sonny, who walked over and picked up a hammer that lay on the floor nearby, handing it to the man he called 'Boss.' “And I believe you, but I'm afraid I need some insurance just to be sure.”

“P-please...I didn't mean to-!” Nick's closed his eyes tightly as Valentino grabbed his dominant hand and brought the hammer down with unapologetic force while Sonny put a cloth over his mouth to suppress the scream that followed.

Valentino stepped away, satisfied with his effort to discipline the young blonde. He watched for a moment as Nick's breathing became labored and sweat began running down his forehead. “From now on, you don't so much as take a leak without my approval, got it?”

Nick took in a weak, ragged breath and looked up. “Yeah, yeah I got it.”

Valentino nodded. “Good.” He glanced to Sonny, and then to the exit. “Take him to the doc – tell him to give the little scamp a dose of those nano-thing-a-majigs so it don't take forever for that hand to heal.”

Sonny nodded a response, and motioned for the youngster to stand. “You're all heart, Boss.”

Valentino raised an eyebrow in satisfaction, gathering his briefcase before following the other two out. “I do what I can.”

* * *

It had only been open for a few hours and already there had been a steady influx of customers into the little restaurant, so many in fact that some were asked to wait outside, while others were turned away completely. As she took orders and relayed them to the kitchen, Scarlet wondered what had caused so many to gravitate to this one spot in such unwavering masses. For a brief moment, she leaned against the nearest wall and sighed. _'Today of all days.'_ Her momentary rest was interrupted by the sound of a man's obviously agitated voice coming from the dining room, followed by the voice of her oddly composed co-worker, Candice.

Scarlet watched as brunette smiled politely, and apologized, even going so far as to say his coffee would be on the house if he could just wait a few more short minutes. Unfortunately, the nearly irate man was not satisfied with this. Eventually the young waitress's patience with the man's rambling tirade began to wear thin. Her eyes narrowed as she cut him off. “You want coffee that badly huh? Then here's a tip: go home and make it your own damn self!” Candice left the now speechless man and headed back toward the kitchen, stopping upon seeing her red-headed co-worker. “Man, what a jerk!”

Scarlet looked apologetic. “I was working so many tables while the coffee was brewing I must have forgotten about him entirely.”

Candice shook her head. “Don't sweat it. Every restaurant in town shudders when that guy walks in the door. It was just a matter of time before he decided to show up here.”

“I don't think I understand. Is he a critic of some kind?”

The brunette blew a few bangs out of her eyes. “Worse. He's one of those that goes into a place, orders something, and then complains about finding some kind of weird object in his food or drink. The last place he did this at, he said there was a rat's tail in his soup. He even produced produced the thing and demanded he get free food or he'd take the owner to court.”

“That seems like more trouble than it's worth.”

“Well, the owners of these other places figure it's easier to just give him a free meal than get dragged into some expensive legal battle The rat's tail was real, by the way. Given his reputation, I'd say he probably planted it himself.” The younger girl paused, taking note of her friend's seemingly troubled expression. “Why don't you go home. I'll cover your shift, okay?”

Scarlet closed her eyes and rubbed her aching temples. “I couldn't possibly do that to you Candice. Not until things quiet down a bit.”

Candice shrugged. “Seriously, I don't know why you agreed to come in if you're not feeling well. Go home, put on something comfortable; maybe call that gorgeous man of yours. I'm sure he can find a way to help you de-stress. Besides, the big man has Kate on call for just such an occasion.”

“Thank you, but you must promise to call me if either one of you becomes overwhelmed.”

“I'm not promising anything.” The younger girl pushed Scarlet gently. “Now go. Your feet must be killing you by now.”

[xy]

It was still early in the day as Scarlet entered her apartment, closing and locking the door behind her. She took off her coat, and turned to survey the gray emptiness before her. Sighing heavily it was finally safe to let the carefully constructed facade of of strength and confidence fall away. On this day there was no silver lining, no bright side, no rainbow despite the storm. Every year she wondered how she managed to endure the long hours that grew increasingly darker as the day wore on. She blinked away a stray tear as her thoughts drifted to the man who had so selflessly provided her with unwavering comfort, understanding, and unconditional love. Their circumstances were different, but the pain was nearly identical.

Scarlet's thoughts were broken with the chirping of her phone. She took it from her purse and tapped the screen accessing the recently received multimedia message. It was a picture of a beach at sunset, the caption reading very simply 'I love you.' A weary smile crossed her lips as she sent a reply of equal sentiment, never once mentioning she had returned home early.

[xy]

An immediate sense of disquiet nearly consumed Neil as he entered the little apartment; the solemn silence falling around him like a fine mist. Rarely had he come home to find the lights still off, the television dark, and the kitchen in the same state as the preceding morning. He quickly hung up his jacket, and headed straight for the bedroom where he found the petite woman he affectionately refereed to as Rose asleep, and holding the pink and purple stuffed dinosaur she had brought back from their first weekend away. He sat down on the edge of the bed, gently brushing her hair back from her face.

She stirred, looked up, her voice just above a whisper when she spoke. “Welcome home.”

Neil sighed and kissed her softy on her forehead, silently confirming that something was very wrong. “I'm going to go change.” The fact she had taken time to search through her closet for the little stuffed animal was of great significance, causing him to wonder what had triggered such an uncharacteristically random event. A few short moments later he returned to the room to find Scarlet sitting up, preoccupied with examining the plush toy as if this was the first time she had seen it. Once again he returned to his previous perch beside her, concern evident in his voice. “What's going on with you today?”

Her eyes did not stray from the toy when she answered. “Busy day.” She set the toy aside and rose to her feet. “I should start dinner.”

As she turned to walk away, Neil followed and quickly caught her by the wrist. “That can wait. Tell me what's wrong.” He had learned early on that enabling these obvious changes in her mood only served to make things worse in the long run.

Defiant, Scarlet stood in place. “I just told you, I'm fine. Now please, let go.”

Neil's grasp held firm though not so tight as to be restraining. “You normally shrug off busy days like water off a duck's back, so I'll ask you again, what's changed between this morning and right now?”

Quickly frustrated with the well intentioned interrogation, Scarlet wrenched her hand away, and turned sharply to meet his gaze. “I have no intention of explaining myself any further. If you can't take me at my word, then so be it.”

Briefly, he watched her leave the room and then turned his attention to the pink and purple dinosaur. “If you could talk, what would you say...?” It was no secret she missed her mother, and hated her grandparents. In his mind, two people that would so callously pawn off their only granddaughter on a complete stranger, were beyond redemption, and in some ways no better than whoever trained and sent the young boy that murdered his family. After a few short moments of contemplation, the reason for Scarlet's behavior made itself clear. He offered a sad smile to the soft, inanimate object. “Thanks.” One question answered, Neil made his way down the short hallway and stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. “Why don't you just go visit her?”

The inquiry caused Scarlet to drop a still clean cutting board. She knelt to pick it up, not once averting her attention from it. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“You know better than to play this game with me, Scarlet. Swallow your pride and go visit your mother's grave. No one ever said you have to give your grandparents the time of day while you're there.”

Scarlet turned away from the task at hand, her expression resembling that of a stone statue. “You think I'm afraid of them.”

“I can't see any other reason-”

Scarlet looked away once more, the stone facade softening as quickly as it had been constructed. “Consider yourself fortunate, Neil.”

Neil leaned against the nearby wall, his brow furrowing at the still cryptic riddle. “I don't see what any of this has to do with me.”

“You have a tangible location to which you can honor your family with flowers, letters, or even gifts for Amy's birthday.” Scarlet paused in momentary reflection, dismayed that her efforts to nullify the subject were less than satisfactory. “The first time I asked to visit Mother, I was told a vagrant had been hired to dispose of her body. For the longest time I didn't believe a word of it, so I spent weeks searching the estate for some sign of her. Somehow I was convinced that no one, not even my grandparents could be so heartless.” She reached up and wiped away a stray tear. “Having scoured every inch of the grounds, I came to realize I must have been told the truth.”

He closed the distance between them and pulled her close. Her entire body was stiff and it was painfully obvious how hard she was fighting to retain her composure. “Why didn't you tell me about this?”

“What good would it do?” Scarlet's voice heightened in pitch just slightly, her breathing becoming ragged and uneven. “I couldn't... Your burdens are heavy enough without adding mine to them.”

Silence fell over the two as Neil let Scarlet nearly collapse in his arms, waiting to speak once again until her quiet sobs began to subside. “It wasn't long ago that I believed we would have met regardless of all this. I have to wonder though if we would have been the same people without having these experiences.” He pulled away from her and smiling at the irony of it all. “You know, I never imagined I'd end up with a girl like you.”

“Like me?”

Neil nodded. “Normal, classy, and too considerate for your own good.” Just then, he blinked remembering the errand he had run earlier in the day. “Which reminds me. I have something for you.” Crossing the short distance to the coat closet, he retrieved an envelope from his jacket pocket.

Curious, Scarlet padded to his side. “What have you done this time?” Tentatively, she took the envelope when he offered it to her, opened it, and took out two pieces of paper. “These are...” Again, tears fell from her emerald green eyes. “Y-you promised you wouldn't...”

They were happy tears, and Neil was glad to see them. “You keep this up and there'll be nothin' left but a pillar of salt.” He pulled her close and kissed her gently. “Some promises are meant to be broken you know.”

“You really _are_ impossible, Neil Dylandy.”

“Happy birthday, Rose.”

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I might as well be honest, I am not exactly thrilled with this chapter, and I'm afraid no amount of editing is going to save it. But, it is what it is, and has some relevancy to chapter twelve. Otherwise I'd delete it entirely and re-order everything. My original intention was to have Scarlet's grandmother play a bigger role, but the jury is still out on if she will or not. I don't particularly like her, which is probably why I can't get my head wrapped around her character. The quote is supposed to illustrate how shallow the old bat is. Time will tell what I decide to do with her, if anything.

“ _For we pay a price for everything we get or take in this world; and although ambitions are well worth having, they are not to be cheaply won.” - Lucy Maud Montgomery_

* * *

Women were complicated. Along with death and taxes, the young Irishman knew these things to be constant truths. Initially it hadn't occurred to him that preparing for this evening would consist of spending seemingly countless hours waiting as Scarlet selected materials, and was fitted for the perfect dress. When all was said, stitched, and done, the result paid dividends. Though the stars sparkled brightly in the early evening sky, none of them were as beautiful to Neil as Scarlet. He crossed to her side of the car, opened the door and offered her his hand. “Lady Dunham.”

Scarlet blushed, accepting her lover's hand and stepping onto the sidewalk. She stood on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. Even in heels she was considerably shorter than Neil. “Silly boy.”

Neil closed the door behind her, and then turned his attention to his apparently preoccupied girlfriend. He took her hand in his, giving it a light squeeze. “Everything okay?”

“I never imagined I'd feel so out of place.” She paused and laughed at the irony. “It seems I have accomplished my goal after all.”

Neil raised a curious eyebrow at this as they walked toward the entrance of the concert hall. “And what would that be?”

Scarlet nodded. “To successfully live as a normal person.”

Neil only smiled, silently musing about the irony of his own ambitions, none of which could remotely be classified as 'normal.' Dismissing the thought, he kissed her lightly. “I'm going to go find a parking space.”

Scarlet looked up, tilting her head slightly. “Or you could let the valet service do it.” She glanced over at a small group of uniformed young men and then back at Neil.

“And let some kid who's had his license all of twenty minutes touch my car? Not a chance.”

Scarlet shook her head and watched Neil leave to attend to said task. “Men and their toys.” She perched on a nearby bench, and began observing the goings-on around her more closely. Attendants stood ready to greet the concert hall's patrons, directing them to their assigned seats, pointing out beverage vendors, and otherwise offering to take orders of people who preferred to not leave the main room. Scarlet watched as an increasing amount of people filtered in through the now open doors. Her eyes followed one woman in particular who must have mistaken the event for something more casual as she was wearing blue jeans and a less than flattering blouse. The few moments of people watching were brief however, as an all too familiar voice instantly sent chills down the young woman's spine.

“How dreadfully distasteful.

Scarlet looked in the direction from whence the voice came, and paled. “Grandmother...”

The older, elegantly dressed woman regarded the younger with little warmth. “Well, if it isn't my wayward grand daughter. How _have_ you been, Dear?”

Scarlet steeled her nerves and stood. “I'm well, thank you.” She glanced briefly around the large entry way. “This must be quite fascinating for you. Tell me Grandmother, how many years has it been since you've associated with 'commoners' such as these?”

Scarlet's grandmother ignored the question. “Rumor has it you have lowered yourself to public service.”

The younger woman's eyes narrowed. “The correct term is waitress, and I rather enjoy what I do, if you must know.”

The elder woman raised an eyebrow. “You enjoy serving other people food and drink for such little pay?” She looked Scarlet over with a critical eye. “How is it you managed to afford such a lovely dress on so little salary? Surely you must have another source of income.”

Scarlet sighed and shook her head. It wasn't necessarily what the other woman had said that upset her, but rather the tone in which she said it. “You haven't changed a bit, have you?”

A short distance away, Neil stood observing the two women. Judging by Scarlet's obvious discomfort, the other woman wasn't simply a casual acquaintance. Having a reasonable suspicion as to what was going on, he crossed the short distance, coming to stand by his girlfriend’s side and took her hand. “Sorry I'm late.”

Scarlet hesitated before introducing the two. “Neil, this is my grandmother, Gwendolyn.”

Neil nodded politely. “Scarlet's told me a lot about you.”

Gwendolyn regarded him with a quizzical look. “Is that so?” She looked back to the young red-head. “When are you finally going to tire of this little charade, Scarlet? If he's the only reason you continue demean yourself, I'm certain he could, shall we say 'be put to good use' at the estate. Perhaps we could discuss a compromise?”

Before Scarlet could speak, Neil interrupted. “Would you excuse us?” He then gestured for Scarlet to walk with him. Once they were out of sight, he held her close, and dealt with the tension in her neck and shoulders. “You're letting her get to you.”

She closed her eyes and whispered softy, resting her head lightly against his shirt. “It irritates me to no end – her insinuations, and her belief that anyone can be bought...” Scarlet looked up, her expression troubled. “Do you have any idea what she meant by-”

“Of course I do. Do you think I've never been propositioned by an older woman before?”

Scarlet blinked, instantly fixated on what she believed to be an indirect confession. “How _much_ older?”

Neil's expression became temporarily sheepish. “Well I-” He paused. Whoever said honesty is the best policy was either a terrible hypocrite, or had spent his entire life explaining himself. “That's not important right now.”

Her skepticism was obvious. “It isn't?”

Neil shook his head. “The most important thing right now is that you don't let her have the upper hand. End this before she upsets you any more.”

Scarlet nodded. “You will answer my question though, won't you?”

A sly smile crossed Neil's features. “Maybe. Come on, let's get this over with.” He looked at his watch as they started walking back to the previous location. “They'll be starting soon.”

Gwendolyn's greeting was nothing short of impatient. “I trust you've made a decision?”

Undaunted, Scarlet replied, her voice cold and steady. “You and I have nothing to talk about, and I'll thank you to keep your judgments about my private life to yourself.”

The older woman regarded the younger with an equal amount of coldness. “Very well.” She then turned to Neil, her expression becoming oddly hopeful. “Does this ill-humored child speak for you as well? I could make life very comfortable for you.”

“You can't just buy and sell people like they're stock market commodities, Mrs. McKnight.” Neil waved a hand dismissively and shrugged. “Besides, you're not my type.” Having no intention of letting Gwendolyn have the last word, he tuned and started toward the place where his and Scarlet's seats were located.

Scarlet followed him to their private balcony that overlooked the stage, and settled down into the seat. “How very curious...”

“What is?”

She took brief the opportunity to lean against Neil, hoping that doing so would help her relax a bit. “It's almost as if she knew we'd be here.”

“I'm sure it's just coincidence.”

Scarlet sighed. “You're right, I really don't know why I'm surprised. This kind of once in a lifetime event attracts high society like moths to a flame.” With that, she wondered idly how Neil could have possibly afforded tickets to the concert, but decided it best not to dwell on the matter. She could do that another time.

[xy]

On the other side of the large room, a very dapper looking Valentino Rossi sat at his own reserved balcony, glass of red wine in hand. He set it down as his phone began to vibrate. “You two clear on what to do?”

Sonny replied from the other end of the connection. “We're all set Boss.”

“Good. Remember, we only got one shot at this.”

Sonny nodded and adjusted his fedora just slightly. “Right.” He looked over at his younger counterpart after ending the call. “You do anything to screw this up and I'll make sure you get real cozy with a concrete filled barrel.”

Although he knew this was no idle threat, Nick showed no fear. “Don't worry, I know the plan like the back of my hand.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something occurred to me as I was proofreading this chapter. So, I think most of us consider it a foregone conclusion that Neil and Lyle likely suffered from some form of PTSD after having their family (and likely other people they knew) murdered. I've always wondered how it is, then that either of them could possibly join Celestial Being. In my mind, I'd think that VEDA would see them as too unstable. But then I realized that (green) GN particles solve everything! :P So there you have it, another 00 plot hole filled! :D

Unfortunately for Valentino Rossi, having to wait through the first half of the concert was like watching paint dry. While kidnappings and mysterious disappearances were common in his world, this time he couldn't help but feel on edge. After all, not only was his own future at stake, but the future of the family and everyone connected to it hung in the balance as well. The whole thing held more risks than he generally liked to deal with. It was bad enough he had been forced to solicit the services of an outsider, but kidnapping the would be heiress to the McKnight empire could make things much more complicated if word ever reached the family. Rossi chuckled as he finished off the last of his glass of wine. He knew who she really was, or rather, who she was supposed to be. What the red-head was doing with a hired gun who came from a middle class family was definitely something that had piqued his curiosity; something that he'd be sure to bring up in conversation later on. 

And so he waited, checking his watch every few minutes, and fidgeting every now and then with his cuff links. Finally, the Master of Ceremonies announced a twenty minute intermission, and Rossi readied himself to intercept his target. He watched the two from across the room for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for the moment that they would separate, but that moment never came. Intermission ended much too soon, and when people started filing back into the main hall, Rossi took his cell from his pocket and sent a message to his right hand man. It read simply, _'Plan B'._

Sonny sighed when he read the message, and then looked to his younger counterpart. “Looks like we're takin' this outside. You get set up in the car. I'll take care of lover boy.”

Nick nodded. “Aye aye, Capn'.” He tempered his childlike enthusiasm when Sonny shot him a very pointed glare. “I'm on it.”

As Nick headed out to the parking lot, Sonny took his position just inside the access door nearest to the spot where Neil had parked his car. 

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, the musicians on stage stood in a small group, bowing to the audience as they received a standing ovation. After a few short moments, they turned and started to head backstage, and the audience then began slowly filing out of each row toward several of the exits. As they waited for the crowd to thin, Neil turned to Scarlet. “So what did you think?”

She gave him a knowing smile. “I think you seemed very uncomfortable.”

Neil shook his head. “I meant what did you think of the concert.”

Scarlet paused in momentary thought. “Well, as you know I am no stranger to classical music, but I can safely say I've never heard anything quite so ethereal.”

“That good, eh?”

She nodded. “And what about you?”

“It was...nice. A little loud though.” The prolonged, varying pitch of each stringed instrument had caused a faint ringing in his ears, which Neil found to be quite odd. All considered, it wasn't as if he weren't accustomed to loud noises. 

“The contrast between these particular instruments and any others is quite striking. Like night and day.” 

He stood and offered her his hand. “I'll take your word for it. I'm just glad you had a good time.”

Scarlet sighed and cast him a shy smile. “Honestly Neil, if you raise my pedestal any higher I'm going to develop a fear of heights. I appreciate everything you must have done to make this night happen, but none of it means nearly as much if you weren't at least somewhat entertained as well.”

Neil merely squeezed her hand and changed the subject. “It's still early. What do you say we get something to eat?”

Scarlet closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck. She had worn her hair tightly pinned up for several hours now, and it was causing a dull headache. “My designer did such a fine job making this dress, but to be honest I can't wait to take it and these heels off. Besides, I refuse to take advantage of you any further.” She looked up to find her lover with a not-so-innocent grin. “Neither of those statements require an answer.”

“Hey, you walked straight into both of them without any help from me.”

The sound of steadily falling rain drops on the pavement outside, and the scent of wet foliage greeted the two as they walked toward the doors that led outside, the temperature not nearly as warm as it had been only a few hours before. It seemed as if they had spent more time in the main hall than either had realized as the entrance hall was now quiet and nearly empty. Neil scanned the room quickly as a sudden unexplainable disquiet fell over him. 

Curious, Scarlet looked up at her consort. “Is something wrong?”

Neil paused before answering. “I thought the rain was supposed to hold off til tomorrow.” Truth be told, any number of sensory triggers were easily capable of putting him on edge, though even when pressed he would never freely admit it. The rain was of little consequence, but rather a strange, somehow ominous silence that encompassed the entryway. Dismissing the feeling as unsubstantiated paranoia, he leaned down and give Scarlet a quick kiss. “Wait here. I'll go get the car.”

“I am not going to melt just because of a few rain drops.”

“And I won't have you catching a cold. Wait in here where it's-” He winced slightly as a cold gust of wind came in through the open door. “at least dry.” Taking note of the falling temperature, and intensifying wind speed, Neil took off his jacket and handed it to Scarlet. “Here.”

Scarlet shook her head and accepted, sighing once again. “People don't _catch_ colds just because they _get_ cold.” She glanced to the doorway and then back at Neil. “Or wet.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

She tucked a few stray pieces of hair behind her ear. “That's merely an old wives tale. Science discredited it centuries ago.”

“Maybe, but like I said, better safe than sorry. You're not exactly the easiest patient to deal with, you know.”

Scarlet raised an index finger and began to speak as if she were reading from a child's story book. 'Neil Dylandy had always been a good boy, making sure to faithfully follow his mother's advice.' She unconsciously ran her hands over chilled arms. “I would imagine she only told you this urban legend so you wouldn't go without a coat and unwittingly succumb to hypothermia.”

“I'd rather take advice from the woman that raised me than some guy in a lab coat that works in the pharmaceutical business. You practically sent someone's kid to university with all that stuff you brought to my place a few weeks back.”

“You wouldn't have taken ill if I had been there to supervise you. I had to make certain that all reasonable precautions were taken.” She paused raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Chicken soup cannot _cure_ a cold either, by the way.”

Neil smiled as the memory of the first night she had spent with him at his apartment. “No, but it helps.”

Scarlet perched on a nearby bench and spoke again as Neil turned toward the doorway. “Have I ever told you you're hopeless?”

He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Once or twice.”

Trivial disagreements such as these typically resulted in a stalemate, with neither side admitting to victory nor defeat. Despite the need to assert her dominance on the subject, Scarlet diverted her thoughts to more important matters. Most people wouldn't have noticed, but she could tell that Neil had been uncharacteristically unsettled for most of the evening. She pulled his jacket around her shoulders, and discreetly watched as the janitorial staff began their work while a few remaining patrons made their way toward the open double doors. As far as she could tell, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and hoped that Neil would confide in her once they were in a more intimate setting. She pulled her arms inside the longer sleeves of Neil's jacket. There were still secrets between them, and Scarlet was thankful to have been blessed with patience enough to withstand her lover's silence.

Scarlet's thoughts were broken at a sudden uneasiness. She looked up to find the source, immediately wondering if this meeting, like the one with her Grandmother, was also a coincidence. “Mr. Rossi...”

“Well well well, fancy meeting you here, Miss Dunham.” He looked around quickly before correcting himself. “It's not that I'm surprised really, just that paying for a night out like this must have set you back a pretty penny or two.”

Scarlet stood, and looked the tall Italian square in the eye. “You seem to have the impression my finances and social life are somehow your business.” She paused and considered whether to engage the man in idle chatter as she waited for Neil to return. “This evening was an early birthday gift, if you must know.”

The Italian smiled in a most sincere and charming way. “Ah well happy birthday then! Say, how 'bout I treat you and your boyfriend to real night on the town; a limo, champagne, the works. What do you say?”

She eyed the taller man warily. For someone she never considered so much as an acquaintance, he was oddly friendly. “It seems that we are the only people left in this building that are not employed here, but instead of going on your way, you insist on chatting me up.” Scarlet tilted her head and continued in an accusatory tone. “Why _is_ that, Mr. Rossi?”

Rossi shrugged. “I'm a long way from home; this definitely ain't anything like The Big Apple, or even The Big Easy. Last time I checked saying hello to a friend wasn't a crime.”

“I believe I made myself quite clear when we last met. You and I are not friends.”

He sighed and took a half step backward. “Okay fine, you got me. You see, I have a huge problem that I was hoping you could help me with. I realize my timing must seem a little calculated, and you're right, it is. As you know, your friend and I live in the same apartment building, and he doesn't seem to like me all that much, so I waited until he left to approach you. Figured it'd save both of us a lot of grief.” 

Scarlet regarded him askance and somehow puzzled. “I don't see what assistance I could possibly provide to you, unless you're going to ask that I come work for you again, in which case the answer is still no.”

He shook his head and looked her over briefly, his focus falling on her half-hidden, small hands. “I wouldn't dream of it. Actually, a funny thing happened during the concert. I dropped my phone in between the seat cushions, and when I went to get the damn thing, I lost a piece of jewelry and wasn't able to fish it out for nothin'. I'd be willing to bet you'd be able to reach it for me.”

Scarlet remained puzzled. “It's obvious you are a man of considerable means. Why not simply replace it?”

“Because it was a gift from my beloved wife, Sophia. If I don't get it back I'll never hear the end of it. And I mean never, not even when we're both pushin' up daisies.”

Scarlet looked away, debating whether she would have time to accompany the other man to the main hall and retrieve the item before Neil returned, but was once again interrupted by the audible click of a twenty-two caliber pistol. She looked back to him, a cold, steady stare quickly replacing temporary surprise. In her mind, having met her grandmother and Valentino Rossi within such a short time, at the same place was no coincidence. “I already told her that I'm not interested in-”

Rossi interrupted the red-head, his amiable demeanor abruptly changing at her resistance. He had hoped to convince her to accompany him back to the main stage room as there was a side door that led to a slightly more discrete exit, but time was short, and he decided to take advantage of the young woman's indecisiveness. “Listen princess I don't know what you're talking about, and I don't care who you are or where you come from. All I need is for you to cooperate or this is going to go south for all of us, including your Prince Charming.”

At this, Scarlet's confusion was apparent. “Are you saying Grandmother didn't send you? And what on earth do you want with Neil?”

The Italian shrugged, and casually put an arm around her while pressing the barrel of the pistol against her side. “Start walkin' and don't do anything stupid. Explanations will have to wait.” 

As if the situation weren't worrisome enough, Scarlet also noted that her 'Prince Charming' as Rossi put it, should have been back by that point. Seeing no other option, she did as she was told. “You won't get away with this.”

Rossi simply chuckled. “Yeah, that's what they all say.”


End file.
